The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time
by Shock Factor
Summary: Two Couriers end up getting a lot more than they bargained for when they run into a group of kids in the middle of the Divide. New villains, new allies, and a whole new world are brought to light as these two men attempt to make the best of this situation- key word being 'attempt'. Rated for shenanigans, graphic content, and HEAVY drug abuse.
1. Chapter 1

The Wrong Place at The Wrong Time

Chapter 1

Walking the Extra Mile

"Where's Nora?"

That particular question would not normally be out of place in any conversation between Teams RWBY and JNPR. As a matter of fact, it was rather common. The ginger bundle of lightning, sloths, and boundless energy rarely stayed in one place, and it wasn't uncommon for J_PR to find her off doing some absurd activity that may or may not be legal. The group sat in the stands during the intermission, waiting for the alert that would call RWBY to the field.

"Your guess is as good as mine, P-Money," Yang answered, resting her arms behind her head, not knowing the full gravity of Nora being 'missing.'

"Well, you all are about to fight, aren't you?" Ren asked. "If I recall correctly, you said you were going after SSSN."

"Yep!" Ruby confirmed.

"You'd think Nora would take it upon herself to be our personal cheerleader," Weiss said. "'Break their legs, guys!'", she continued, in a altogether unenthusiastic impersonation of the Valkyrie.

"That's pretty much what she'd say," Jaune agreed. "I am kind of worried, though... it's been about... I dunno, ten minutes since we last saw her?"

"That's about right," Pyrrha said. "She normally doesn't take that long unless-"

"Stop right there. I don't want to even THINK about the possible collateral damage her 'walks' can cause," Weiss interrupted.

* * *

 _"NORA! WHAT HAPPENED TO... TO... TO THIS!?" Pyrrha shouted, spreading her arms to encompass what was formerly a forest, and now a smoking, crater-marked waste for at least 3 miles ahead of them. A Beowulf lay impaled on a tree branch, vainly struggling to free itself._

 _The hammer wielder clasped her arms innocently behind her back. "Oh, you knoooooow, I just decided to take a walk!"_

 _She leaned forward into her fellow JNPR girl's face, pointing at a Creep whose jaw was unnaturally distended by the Ursa half-shoved down its throat._

 _"A very BRISK, ENTHUSIASTIC WALK through the woods."_

* * *

If anyone saw the sudden twitch in Pyrrha's eye, they didn't comment on it.

"Yeah... she could have gotten herself -someone else- hurt," Blake agreed.

"I guess I'll go try and find her. She probably just went back to campus," Jaune guessed, standing up. His partner shot up from her seat, her previous traumatic flashback now a dull memory.

"I'll come along. Two sets of eyes are better than one, after all," Pyrrha informed them.

"Oh no, now Nora's gonna have to deal with the fun _Pole-_ ice!" Yang gasped.

Ruby chuckled, Blake facepalmed, and Weiss groaned in irritation.

"Tough crowd, you bunch..." she muttered as Jaune and Pyrrha went off to find their teammate.

"Ren, you're not going with them?" Weiss asked JNPR's resident straight man, who had not made any effort to leave his seat.

"I will join them shortly... I'm going to take a quick nap, and catch up with them later. Do you mind?"

"No, not at all. I doubt you'll get good re-"

"Awww he's so cute when he's sleeping!" Ruby squeaked, pointing at the green-clad Hunter in training.

Weiss did a double take, and, sure enough, he was knocked out cold. Say what you want about Lie Ren, but he could likely sleep through a nuclear Armageddon.

"Well, that was quick."

* * *

One thing that everyone knew about Jaune Arc was that he was not the brightest bulb in the box. One thing that everyone did NOT know is that Pyrrha Nikos wasn't always the pinnacle of genius either, as evidenced by the fact that their current strategy was to walk in circles around the Festival grounds, trying to make out their favorite ginger in a sea of faces, rather than... you know... calling her on their Scrolls.

Well, to each his-and-or-her-own.

"You see her?" Jaune asked, raising his voice to be heard over the clamor of the crowd.

"Not yet!" his partner replied, looking over a stranger's shoulder at an individual whose hair matched Nora's in cut and color, but she was rather certain that Nora was not a male, and that she did not have a beard. A fruitless effort.

The two partners continued their vigil, occasionally finding someone that looked like their teammate at a glance, but would prove to be strangers under scrutiny. That one was too tall. This one was too short. The other one's hair wasn't long enough, and the one by them's was too long.

"Where would she have gone? It's not like she knows her way around town that well," Jaune wondered.

"She tends to go out with Yang, she knows more than you think."

"Oh, Dust, do they go out drinking?"

"...no..."

"So that's why you suplexed Yang through that table last week."

"Alcohol is terrible for you, Jaune. Remember that."

Jaune would normally make an awkward, weak joke at this point, but Pyrrha was looking unusually serious right now, sort of how she did whenever Nora talked about walking. Considering what Pyrrha had told him about the hammer-wielder's love of taking nice, brisk walks through the countryside, he couldn't say he blamed her

After about another minute of walking, Pyrrha decided she was going to do the sensible thing and call her friend to make sure no one was going to have to go home in a body bag. She reached into her shorts, trying to grab her Scroll... which wasn't in her front pockets. She reached around to her backside and stuck her hand in the back- wallet, dorm keys, team photo, but no Scroll. She must have left it in the stands.

With a sigh, she turned to her partner. "Jaune, can I borrow your-"

There was no one there. Apparently Jaune had mastered the art of disappearing into thin air as a result of her training.

"Jaune?"

Pyrrha looked around, a slight coil of worry forming in her belly. If she had to look for two people, that would be less time she could spend evacuating the general population of Vale in the event of Nora taking a nice long walk. As much as she loved Jaune, the safety of the public was one of her top priorities as a huntress-in-training. Jaune could probably handle himself... probably. She took out her Scroll, tapping the 'Team' icon, and noticed something extremely odd. Nora and Jaune's bars were not green, or yellow, or even red.

They were white, with black stripes.

White-on-black bars on an Aura monitor meant that the person being monitored was currently out of range of the current device. Normally, this meant weak reception, a large distance, or Grimm destroying the CCT Tower nearest you. There was no Grimm Alarm or gunfire, and she had five bars of reception right now.

That meant that, somehow, Jaune Arc and Nora Valkyrie had managed to get at least 10 miles away from her within 10 minutes for the latter, and 45 seconds and counting, for the former.

Wait a moment, now Ren was out of range... something wasn't right. Was her Scroll damaged? She flipped over the device, checking for cracks, dents, or anything out of the ordinary. Nothing stood out, so she removed the cover over the inner workings of the device, only to find nothing amiss. Something was definitely very wrong.

Her Scroll beeped, showing that someone had messaged her. Upon examination, it was Weiss.

' _Pyrrha is Ren with you?'_

She quickly typed out her reply.

 _'No I thought he was asleep."_

 _'Well he isn't here! and neither is Blake!'_

Okay, perhaps they were just playing a joke on her. RWBY loved to play jokes on her, especially now that Nora had gone and blabbed about her secret crush to the entire team, although, according to Yang, 'a blind man would be able to see that you want to jump his bones.' They knew how to get a rise out of her, this was just a prank. Just a silly, silly prank.

 _'Weiss this isnt funny. The joke is over.'_

 _'Pyrrha this isnt a joke I swear! Now Yang's gone and Ruby's having a heart attack.'_

 _'Weiss stop it. This joke isnt funny anymore, just give it up. I can't believe you dragged Jaune Nora and Ren into this- I can't believe YOU got dragged into this.'_

Pyrrha's textual rant was suddenly interrupted by an invisible force suddenly collapsing in on her. It felt like she was in a garbage compactor, like her entire body was being compressed in on itself. Before she could utter any sound, she was gone.

* * *

A loud thud accompanied Pyrrha hitting the hard pavement, her head thankfully landing on a patch of dirt exposed by the worn asphalt.

"Okay... that hurt quite a bit," she muttered, sitting up as she looked to the sky. The weather was certainly not very inviting, wherever she was. It was overcast, with winds whipping hard enough to actually sting, cold as ice. She felt an odd, tingling sensation all over her body, but she assumed that had something to do with that sudden burst of pain she'd experienced a moment ago.

Carefully, she got to her feet, wiping the dust off her body as she checked to make sure everything was in its right place. She still had her weapons on her back, and her Scroll had landed just a few inches from her hand -she'd likely let go of it on impact with the ground. She picked up the device, noting a rather large spiderweb crack in the center of the screen. However, it apparently still worked, as it powered on with a flicker.

She quickly went to the 'Team Icon', once again greeted by the black and white bars, only now her name had one as well. They were evidently far from a CCT tower. No matter, they had been out in the wilderness before, they could certainly handle it now. She tapped a microphone icon on the display, holding it closer to her face to make sure she was heard clearly.

"Jaune, Nora, Ren, are you alright?"

Static.

"Can you hear me?"

Static.

Pyrrha looked around, making sure no one was around to hear her, before huffing and stomping her foot.

"Dammit..."

Well, that was certainly cathartic. Now she had her mind in the right place, and, as such, she decided to take inventory of her surroundings. As she looked around, she was able to deduce a few things. It was hot as hell, and dry, and the wind only made it worse. It was probably somewhere around 4:00 in the afternoon, judging by the sun's barely visible place in the sky. All of the buildings around her were decrepit, abandoned, half buried in dust and sand, and most definitely uninhabited. A highway loomed overhead, and by highway, she meant HIGH-way. It had to be hundreds and hundreds of feet off the ground, winding to the north and south. Or, at least, she thought it was the north and south. Her Semblance would likely mess with any compass she owned.

"Well, I suppose there's no harm in checking," she said to herself, looking at the small compass in the corner of her screen.

For the first time in all her days since discovering her Semblance, it was not pointing at her. Rather, it was pointing slightly to the left. Therefore, she was supposedly facing west. The wind was coming from the same direction.

Was something wrong with her Aura, she wondered, noting the distinct feeling of it being... dull, almost non-existent.

A single light in a window caught her eye, from some sort of shack to the right side of the road. She probably needed to get out of the heat and wind before she started to tire. She strode over to the door, and opened it slowly, peering inside. "Hello? Is anyone here?"

No one was within, and a single, dim bulb hung from the beam that held the roof of the hut together. There was a chair off to the side of the halo of light given off by the bulb, and a small desk beside it. A door was framed by shadow directly ahead of her, unmarked, with a glass pane centered near the top of it. She couldn't quite see through it.

She approached the door, relaxing her stiff shoulders as she reached for the knob, turned it, and pulled, revealing a skinless man with a rather large knife and an pained rictus staring at her.

Instinctively, she extended her hand, attempting to call up her Semblance to push _whatever in the seven Hells this ABOMINATION was_ back, only for her Aura to sputter uselessly. Her effort was rewarded with the knife-wielding freak lunging for her, tackling her to the ground with a roar filled with hatred and pain. Training kicked in, and her knees buried themselves in the stomach of the assailant, allowing her to shove him off of her and roll back, taking Miló off her back and shifting it to sword form. Her opponent managed to clamber back to his feet, another cry welling up as he rushed her haphazardly, no regard for technique or restraint. She deftly sidestepped his attack, taking Akoúo̱ off her back and swinging it directly at his head, connecting with a loud crack. The man stumbled and fell a foot or two away, clutching at the affected area as he attempted to get up.

She recognized that he was bleeding rather badly, and there was exposed bone prodding out from -well, _exposed flesh_. And, needless to say, she was rather disgusted, horrified, and, to her shame, a bit terrified of whatever this man had become.

His breaths came in ragged pants as he righted himself, his hand falling limply to one side, his grip on the blade growing tighter as he glared over his shoulder, his teeth once again bared in an animalistic grin. He pivoted on his foot bringing the knife up in a backhanded hold, as if he were a trained knife fighter. Then, disregarding that, he charged again. Pyrrha prepared to sidestep the strike again, intending to knock him unconscious with a blow from the flat of her blade, only to be shocked by another flash of metal from his other hand.

A handgun.

Instinctively, she shifted her blade to its rifle form, intending to shoot the gun out of his hand, but he shot first. The round grazed her neck, leaving a burning trail of pain in its wake. Ignoring the urge to reach for it, she fired, her own shot finding its mark and blasting the gun out of his grip and through a nearby window. With a last agonized scream, he barreled forward, knife held in both hands overhead as he leapt for a downward stab.

Only to be met by a blade to the chest.

Pyrrha stared up into the eyes of this... man?... as he registered the fact that he had been impaled. His eyes practically burned as he brought the blade down, only for Pyrrha to withdraw her blade and step back, leading the man to fall uselessly to the ground, burying his blade in the wood floor.

'Did I just kill someone?' she asked herself, finding that she was pretty sure she wouldn't like the answer.

The man crawled towards her, malice still evident in the pained groans that accompanied his pulling the knife from the floor, and dragging himself towards her. She stepped back, but he didn't stop. In fact, he seemed to grow angrier. His groans became louder, filled with the same rage he possessed in their initial encounter.

 _*ptah*ptah*click*_

Someone was coming.

Now, all things considered, it was very likely that this unidentified entity meant Pyrrha Nikos no harm. However, it was equally likely that whatever it was DID, and, considering Pyrrha had just had her first encounter with the denizens of this-Oum-forsaken-ruin ended with her getting shot at and slashed at with a knife, she was more likely to take the latter probability more seriously. She quickly ran past the floor-ridden man-monster, opening the door and shutting it as quickly and quietly behind her as she could, finding herself in a rather decrepit and rank bathroom.

Well, it was either this or possible death. She could handle hiding in a bathroom for a few minutes.

The man who entered the hut was tall, about as tall as Ozpin. A long coat billowed behind him, and the light cast on the doorway revealed he was wearing some sort of armored chest piece, with the number '06' emblazoned in white paint. Behind him was a smaller man, more akin in height to Jaune, in a hat that wouldn't look out of place in Vacuo, a tan shirt, and a bright red scarf. The former had two rather large gauntlets, while the latter had some sort of gun.

"Another marked one," the larger man said, in an accent Pyrrha couldn't quite place. "Looks like he got a little roughed up, eh, Sancho?"

"It's 'Dutch'," the other man drawled, in what sounded something like a Western Valean accent. "Who the hell is this 'Sancho' you keep blabbing on about?"

"Have you ever read a book, _hijo_? And no, La Fantoma is NOT a book, it is softcore pornography."

"I don't need to read a damn book, stupid! We've got those brain-jar thingies to do the thinking for us!"

"Look, forget it. This thing is crawling towards us, are we going to kill it, or what?"

"After you, oh wise one!"

The man in the coat stepped forward, lifting his foot into the air, and bringing it down with a wet _*crunch*_ on the head of the 'marked one', rendering him still forever.

"And now I've got ghoul on my boot. _Asqueroso_..."

The man's face was now visible in the light. He was relatively tan, about the same tone as Sun, with scars marring his face, including a rather nasty one off to the side of his forehead that looked almost like an entry wound. The man's eyes were a light brown, almost yellow in the light, with thick, bushy black brows above, matching the thick, slicked back hair atop his head, shaved on either side. Said stubble was rather gray, as was the majority of the thin beard framing his jaw, save for a rather large mustache in the same shade as the rest of his hair.

He looked up at the door, and Pyrrha stood ramrod still. She wasn't able to see the 'marked one' through the glass, how would he be able to see her?

"Hey, Esteban. I saw the door shut when we came in," the smaller man said.

"A marked one wouldn't have run away, _hijo_."

"Wouldn't put it past them. I'll make sure."

"Whatever. You get killed, I'm going to laugh, then cry a little... then laugh some more."

"Jackass."

" _Pendejo_."

The smaller man stepped into the light as well, revealing a clean shaven, youthful face. She couldn't see much above his eyes, which were barely visible through the shade presented by his hat, but she could see that they were perhaps only a shade removed from her own. These eyes were cold, however, sunk in and hollow. It was almost as if he _wanted_ something to be behind the door.

Quickly, she ducked to one side, noting a urinal stall that would be hidden from his view. If he chose not to investigate too closely, she would be safe.

The door opened, and before she could make the corner, his head turned to her.

Their eyes met, his eyes wide and hand clenched tight around his gun. Her hand gripped her blade equally taut, anticipating a fight that she wasn't sure she really wanted to be in. Without her Aura, she felt nearly naked, not to mention the fact that she would have to lunge at him, leaving herself open to be shot, in order to strike him. She nodded slowly, backing up, and he shook his head at a similar pace, taking a single step back.

Before she could mouth anything back, he looked back out the doorway.

"Ain't nothing here," he said as he backed away, shutting the door. Pyrrha breathed a restrained sigh of relief as the man stepped away from the door. She leaned back against the bathroom wall, listening for their departure.

"Nothing. Not even a medical kit?" 'Esteban' asked.

"Nope. Just shitters and a urinal," 'Dutch' replied.

"Okay. I don't see anything in here other than a few boxes of 10 mil ammo, and some .44 Magnum rounds. Here."

The sound of a box full of metal impacting cloth could be heard. "Beholden to you, old man."

" _¡Pues claro!"_ Esteban replied. "You ready to roll out? That Ulysses bastard is getting on my last nerve with his cryptic speech crap."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm ready to go," Dutch answered.

The sound of the door to the domicile opening was followed by a loud cry of ' _Buenos dias,_ Diviiiiiiiiiide!' and an exasperated groan. Two sets of footsteps could be heard for the next two seconds, and then the door slammed shut.

Pyrrha slowly opened the bathroom door again, looking down at the corpse of the 'marked one'. Blood spattered in a small radius around where his head used to be, with a few bloody footsteps mixed with a bit of loose flesh led to the door. It took a good bit of willpower not to get sick looking at it. Yes, she was trained to be able to look death in the face, but it's not like she'd been this close to it before.

She shook her head. 'I should probably wait for a bit while I let them get ahead, then I'll go looking for RWBY and the rest of my team.'

She sat down on top of the desk she saw earlier, taking a deep breath, and shaking her head.

She looked down at the corpse, and it dawned on her.

"I can't stay in here."

She got off the desk, walking towards the door and opening it, looking back out. The wind immediately made her reconsider for a moment, but in the end, she had watched enough movies during her Sanctum days to know that people that stayed in rooms with dead people started to talk to them, and then go crazy. So, that wasn't an option. She turned to the right, and saw the backs of Dutch and Esteban as they walked along. Esteban was now holding a long-barreled, heavy-looking rifle with a wind sight, while a pair of blades were holstered on Dutch's back.

Quickly, she shut the door, and ducked behind a nearby barrel, watching as they went up the road a bit further, before following suit herself.

"Hey, Dutch. How long has it been since you had a hit?" Esteban asked.

"About an hour. Why?"

"God despises liars, _hijo_. How long has it been?"

"... about ten minutes."

"Oh, come on... what was it this time?"

"...Steady..."

"You got the shakes?"

"...No..."

"Oh, come the FUCK on, _hijo_! You need to get clean! I swear, when we get home, I'm taking you to a doctor."

"When 'we' get home? And with what money, you spent it all on ammo for that Auto Rifle, and a bunch of fancy guns that are sitting on the bed in Novac!"

"Well, maybe if you stopped buying chems, we'd have more money!"

"I have more money than you, smart guy!"

"And you use it on that garbage!"

"That GRX shit might as well be a chem."

"I use it because it ISN'T one, that's the whole point, Dutch! _¡Ayúdame, Dios!_ "

Pyrrha wondered what exactly a 'chem' or 'GRX' was. Well, it's not like she was going to walk up to them and ask.

"Can we change the subject, old man?"

"Fine. What do you want to talk about?"

"I saw somethin' in the hut."

"Thought you didn't?"

Pyrrha's breath caught in her throat, and her grip on her weapons tightened.

"That Marked Man was wearin' Legion gear. We've only been seeing NCR thus far."

"Huh, I saw that too."

Pyrrha exhaled loudly, thankful that she hadn't been exposed. Unfortunately, if she intended to glean information from following these two men, she wouldn't get anything very important. She didn't understand half of what they were talking about.

"Wonder why."

"Beats the hell out of me, Dutch."

Pyrrha heard their voices starting to fade with distance, meaning it was time for her to catch up. She carefully measured the distance between her and the nearest concealment, and dashed across the way, not making a sound until she had crossed the road.

"So, where are we going, again?" Dutch asked.

"The High Road, _hijo._ That big overpass up there," Esteban replied.

"Right, right. Then where to?"

"Wherever the hell this Ulysses _cabrón_ is."

"Got it. How long you reckon this is gonna take?"

"Two days, maybe four tops."

"So, you're telling me it's gonna be a week, in actuality."

"Oh, ye of little faith..."

Again, she was forced to try and keep up. This time, there was a neatly stacked pile of rubble. She ducked behind it, peering at them from behind a bent girder. They were approaching some kind of intersection- part of the overpass she had seen had apparently collapsed down on the main road.

"Well, I'll be damned," Esteban said, staring at the rubble. "Pip-Boy says we gotta go in there."

"Shit..."

Pyrrha closed the gap between them a bit more, managing to just make it past Esteban as he turned his head in her direction, coming to a halt behind a fallen billboard.

"Something caught your ear, old man?" Dutch asked.

"... no. Must have been nothing."

 _*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*_

"That's gunfire!" Dutch shouted, drawing his handgun. "Coming from the overpass!"

Now, Dutch and Esteban only heard gunfire, but Pyrrha heard something completely different. You see, on Remnant, there are many weapons, each with a distinct sound that is almost completely unique to it. And the gun she was hearing right now, was Ember Celica.

" _Chingate!_ You think it's a Marked One?"

"I don't know, but it won't hurt to find out!"

Esteban racked the action of his rifle, his coat billowing out as he broke into a dead sprint towards the entrance to the collapsed overpass. Five drew a broad, rectangular blade from one of his sheathes, and followed suit. Pyrrha, realizing she had little to worry about in the way of being spotted at this point, followed after them from a short distance away.

* * *

 **Here it is, my dear readers, my late Christmas gift to you- IT's BAAAAAAAAACK. This is the final, reworked draft of the story that started me in fanfiction, 'The Wrong Place at The Wrong Time'. I hope you enjoy reading it, it's been almost a year in the making.**

 **Credit to my coauthor, who shall be referred to now as 'Hipster Hippo', my editor and wallet Big Mike, and everybody who has me on their alerts and favorites. You people are the best, don't you forget it!**

 **Until next chapter,**

 **Shock.**


	2. Chapter 2

The Wrong Place at The Wrong Time

Chapter 2

Tunnel Vision

Yang Xiao Long had plenty of bad days, that was a fact.

But this was by far the worst. That was also a fact.

She had landed in this Oum-forsaken tunnel after god-knows what happened and started causing her friends and sister to disappear. She had almost immediately encountered this big...lizard... _thing_ that was gushing blood from a ridiculous assortment of wounds. It had ducked into some kind of container, which Yang, in her infinite curiousity, looked into, to find the thing had been torn limb from limb. After about a minute of walking through this tunnel, she got jumped by _whatever the unholy FUCK_ these glowing things were.

As Ember Celica connected with the skull of one of her assailants, she felt the telltale sting of claws on her back indicating she was a bit too slow. Immediately whipping around, she managed to pop off a shot that eviscerated the creature with a single strike. As she turned back, she found the one she had already struck immediately back in her face, fangs bared.

"WHAT!? OH, COME ON!"

She swung again, noting the distinct lack of heads flying off or bodies flying back. She knew something felt off with her Aura, but her Semblance should still be working! Why wasn't it!? Enraged, she swung again, this time firing off Ember Celica and achieving the desired result. The creature flew back onto a rebar, face rendered a smoking, pulpy mess by her right fist. Another creature popped up from behind a pile of rubble, already screeching at her. This one's fangs seemed longer, but it seemed anemic, even sickly looking. Easier to kill, she supposed. As she reared back to punch the attacker, a sharp pain ran from her neck down to her feet. An involuntary cry came from her lips as she smashed her back against the nearest piece of rubble, attempting to knock the creature off of her that had latched onto her back. As she did so, the more wiry attacker jumped from its perch and attempted to go for her jugular...

 _*BLAM*_

The creature flew off to the side, glowing white blood arcing through the air.

"Turn around!" Pyrrha shouted.

Yang complied, pushing back her shock at finally hearing a familiar voice, twisting her shoulder to further expose the enemy on her back. Pyrrha's javelin flew true, and struck the creature between the eyes.

"Wait, what the fuck are you doing here!?" a man behind her, holding a rifle that Yang could safely assume was the one that shot the creature in front of her, asked, looking shocked at Pyrrha.

"We've got bigger problems, Dutch!" a taller man in a coat with a strange accent said, punching together a pair of gauntlets, a ring of blue energy pulsing outward from his fists. "I'll clear a path! _Sígueme_ !"

Whoever the man in the coat was, he certainly knew how to make an entrance. He leapt over Yang's head from the pile of rubble he was standing on, landing feet-first on the head of one of the attacking creatures. Pivoting quickly on said foot, he reared back with his right arm, which was clad with a white, skeletal gauntlet, and struck a lunging attacker in the stomach. The blue pulse reappeared, and the recipient of the punch flew into a metal container with a loud crack.

Yang stepped forward to assist him, only to collapse to her hands and knees, a surge of pain coursing through her whole body. Her ears were suddenly ringing, making it almost impossible to hear anything. She was vaguely able to register someone grabbing her by the arm.

" _-no use, she's half dead as it is!"_

 _"-not leaving her behind! She-"_

 _"-help, dammit!"_

Yang needed to know what was going on. Even if she couldn't do much about whatever it was, her Huntress training had taught her to always keep aware of her surroundings. Slowly, painfully, she forced herself to look up. The man in the coat offhandedly backhanded one of the creatures into some sort of hole, where it collided with one of its comrades. Yang's hearing had cleared up a little bit, allowing her to hear what was being said.

"Yang!"

She slowly turned her head to the person who had taken it upon themselves to carry her.

"Heyyyy, P-Money... thanks..."

Pyrrha smiled wanly, clutching Milò in her free hand as Yang tried and failed to get her legs to cooperate with their effort to get the hell out of here. She looked over their shoulders at 'Dutch', who was now wielding some sort of blade in a backhand hold, switching between said weapon and a long rifle as he fought his way to the group.

"So, remind me who in the HELL invited you to join us!?" 'Dutch' shouted over the ambiance, looking back at Pyrrha.

"What?" she asked.

"I said, WHO IN THE HELL INVITED YOU TO JOIN US!?"

Pyrrha rolled her eyes and kept trudging forward, switching her weapon to rifle form and taking aim at a rather large variation of the creatures harassing them.

"Pyrrha, I can fight..." Yang said, trying to convince herself more than her current rescuer.

"No you can't. You're barely standing, Yang." A few shots from Milò sent the creature scurrying, giving the two huntresses-in-training some breathing room.

"Just give me a sec to get my bearings..."

"You didn't answer my question!" the gunslinger suddenly stated from behind them. "And pick up the damn pace, they're startin' to swarm!"

"Can we focus on getting out of here alive!?" the coated man shouted over the din of combat.

Yang stumbled slightly, grunting in frustration as she tried to right herself.

"Yang, don't worry, I've got it!"

Pyrrha's weight shifted, and just like that, Yang was over her shoulders in a fireman's carry. Thankfully, Pyrrha had a lot of experience with heavy lifting- the redhead moved as if there was no weight on her at all.

The man in the coat had stopped his advance temporarily, allowing the rest of the group to catch up. Pyrrha rushed forward, Yang draped over her, kicking a Tunneler that was getting unhealthily close to the man in the coat.

"Watch your back!" she said.

" _!_ _Gracias, C_ _armesí!"_ he replied, punching one of the Tunnelers with a rusty gauntlet marked with a hazard bar. A beeping charge fired from the gauntlet into the skull of the target, who he pushed back with a punch from his other fist, detonating it near a crowd of its fellows and collapsing one of their tunnels.

"Can you answer the damn question, you-!" Dutch interjected, having had it about up to here with being ignored.

"Please SHUT UP and HELP!" Pyrrha suddenly shouted, causing the ringing to return to Yang's ears with a vengeance. She had to admit, though, hearing Pyrrha nearly blow up was worth it. Dutch shook his head, grimacing, before turning back to the crowding creatures, slinging his rifle over his back and drawing two revolvers- one solid black, one black with a white handle, both ornately decorated, and opened up on the crowd. Two of the Tunnelers were slain with his first two shots, while the others managed to close the distance on him. He hopped back, dispatching another three in as many shots, before twisting around and making a bloody mess of a more brutish specimen.

"Get on that truck!" the coated man shouted, and everyone looked to see what he was talking about. Sure enough, a green military truck was just visible, due to one of its headlights glaring straight at them.

"On the bed!?" Dutch asked.

"What do you think, stupid? Yes, the bed!"

Dutch turned, springing past Pyrrha, Yang, and the coated man, with a cry of "I've got this!". With a flying leap, he landed on the hood of the truck, lifting his handguns and covering the group's advance. Pyrrha ran ahead, with the coated man swatting away some more determined enemies with all the grace and patience of a raging bull, as the champion tossed her friend up onto the bed of the vehicle, eliciting a sharp cry from Yang. Pyrrha climbed on immediately after, moving up to the top of the cab with Yang as revolver fire cracked over their heads. Finally, the coated pugilist joined them, throwing open his coat to grab a rather strange-looking handgun and fire down on the assembled mob from the floor of the truck's bed.

" _Carmesí!_ How is your friend!?" he asked.

Pyrrha looked down at Yang, trying to veil the fear she felt at the sight of Yang's worsening condition. "How are you feeling, Yang?"

"... Like I've been bit...clawed...and hit by a truck..."

"Esteban! This looks like the last of 'em!" Dutch shouted.

" _Madre de Dios,_ I hope the fuck so!" 'Esteban' replied, shooting down a rather zealous attacker. With a few more rounds from his 12.7mm, and a full cylinder of .45-70 from Dutch, the last of the creatures lay dead. Dutch sighed loudly and flopped back on the hood of the truck, taking deep breaths. For now, the tunnel was silent.

"Shiiiiiiiit..." he groaned.

Esteban looked back at the two young ladies that had just so happened to somehow end up in the 'uninhabited save for ghouls, deathclaws, and tunnelers' Divide, giving them a once-over. The redhead was busy fretting over the blond, failing to notice that quite a few of the straps on her... corset? What the fuck was this woman doing wearing a corset in a combat situation?

"Ey, uh, _C_ _armesí_."

Pyrrha looked back at him.

"Your... corset's coming undone."

The girl's eyes widened as she reached over her shoulders to hastily fix the issue. The blonde chuckled weakly. "Aw, come on... that thing's a bit... tight, innit?"

"Yang, not the best time for this conversation."

"Yes, mooooom..."

Six crawled up to the top of the cab and looked over the two girls. "What are you two doing in the Divide?"

The redhead shook her head. "I just got here not long ago. I believe I was somehow transported here... but I'm not sure how. I assumed my friends did, too, and my assumption appears to be correct."

"This is one of your friends?" Esteban asked. For a moment, his expression seemed a bit surprised, but he quickly hid whatever emotions had started to come up behind a stern visage.

"Yes, sir," Pyrrha replied.

"I heard you call her 'Yang'. What is your name, _Carmesí_ ?"

"My name is Pyrrha Nikos."

"A pleasure to meet you... although I wish it could be under more pleasant circumstances. I am Esteban Gonzales Andrade de San Andreas. Call me Esteban or Six." He pointed over his shoulder. "That little _hijo de puta_ over there is Dutch Van Fleet, some call him Five."

"Howdy-fuckin'-do," Dutch replied.

"You said something about your 'friends.' I assume there's more than one?" Esteban continued.

"Well... I don't know if they're all here, but there's eight of us."

"Have you seen anyone out of the ordinary, Dutch?"

"Saw that redheaded hussy in the bathroom in that little building. Other than that, just you and me."

"Excuse me?" Pyrrha asked, not believing her ears. Did that man just call her a...

"Ey! Dutch! Shut that shit up, now!"

"Last I checked, I didn't answer to you, especially when you make stupid decisions like you just did."

"What do you mean, I did!? You were equally responsible for us being here!"

"They're gonna slow us down and you know it!"

"This is NOT the time for an argument, _hijo_ , do you understand me!?"

"I don't believe I fucking do, old bastard!"

"Guys, can you quiet down for ten seconds... while I try and die?" Yang asked, rolling her eyes.

Esteban did a double take. " _Mierda_." He reached into his coat, grabbing some kind of cord from within, and some sort of clay gourd. "This will stop the venom from spreading, but it's gonna taste like shit, and you're probably going to end up tearing your throat up, do you understand?"

"Ah, please... what do I look like, some kinda wuss?"

"You look like someone whose got enough poison in their veins to kill a bull Bighorn. Here." He quickly grabbed her by the right shoulder, tying off the cord just below it, where the brunt of her bite wounds were located. He grabbed her jaw next, forcibly pulling it open and pouring the clear liquid down her throat. He immediately covered her mouth with one gloved hand. "Don't throw up, don't throw up, don't throw up..."

Yang didn't even flinch.

"Well, hot damn, aren't you taking it like a champ?"

"I've tasted worse..."

"Right. You should be fine in a bit, but we need to get you out of here... NOW."

"I don't think that's a wise idea, old man. She's weak enough as it is. Moving her around too much might cause some problems," Dutch said.

"Weren't you just calling her dead weight?"

"Well I assumed she was about to BE dead. Now that she's not..."

"My point stands. Do you want those freaks to come back and maul the rest of us? I don't know if I have enough Antivenom for the four of us. Now, pick her up and let's get the hell out of here.

"Alright," Pyrrha replied.

"Dutch, make sure nothing's following us. I'll make sure the front is clear."

"Fine," the other Courier answered.

Pyrrha grabbed Yang and hoisted her up onto one shoulder. Esteban hopped down from the truck, followed by Pyrrha, then Dutch. The latter pulled back the hammers on his revolvers, looking back into the wrecked ruin. "What a pretty sight..." he muttered.

"What was that?" Esteban asked.

"Nothin', nothin'..."

 _*BEEP BEEBEEBEEP BEEBWOOOOP*_ ED-E chimed. Esteban nodded in agreement, pointing into the distance. "Hey, ED-E. Check out that sunset." Sure enough, down at the end of the tunnel, an ethereal orange glow was cast over the highway. Beams of said light shone like a halo over an outcropping with a single overturned car.

"You can understand that machine?" Pyrrha asked.

"His name's ED-E, and yes, I can. I'll explain later."

The robot chirped excitably, bobbing back and forth at the sight of the light breaking through the tunnel.

"Hey, we look clear!" Esteban shouted back to the rest of the group, pointing forward. Five holstered his Hunting Revolver, and took off his hat, running a hand through his coarse brown locks. Pyrrha jogged forward, Yang on her back.

"What say you? Want to enjoy the weather?" he asked.

"Well, we could always fucking wait for those freaks to come tell us a bedtime story," Dutch replied, rolling his eyes.

"Ah... I'd rather not," Six replied. "We're out."

* * *

As they stepped out into the light, Five put his hat back on, using the brim to cover his eyes. "Shit, that's brighter than I thought."

Six did the same with his arm, while Yang did the friend-service and did so for Pyrrha.

 _-"There you are-"-_

"WHOA!" Six shouted, hopping back with a start and clutching his chest like he was about to have a stroke. Five whipped around to the source of the voice, drawing both of his handguns again, while Pyrrha turned and raised her blade.

ED-E floated there, oblivious.

 _"Chingate,_ Ulysses..." Six muttered. "Scared me out of my pants..."

 _-"Can I continue without further interruption, Courier?"-_ 'Ulysses' asked.

"I have a feeling you don't care what the answer is..."

 _-"You went quiet for a time... knew killing the Bear wouldn't prove easy. You and your..."-_ The voice paused, as if contemplating his next words.

"My what, Ulysses?"

 _-"your_ machine ..."- Ulysses spat.

"ED-E isn't a machine, _cabrón_." Six stated, his voice lowering to a rather dangerous tone.

 _-"...your machine survived,_ * Ulysses repeated, emphasizing _that word_ again. -" _There's a lesson here, in the Divide. Old World history about paving and intentions could teach the Republic a thing or two, if they listened. #_

"'The road to hell is paved with good intentions,'" Pyrrha clarified, causing Six's head to snap towards her, and ED-E to rotate towards her.

 _-"Ah... I forgot you were here. I am surprised you know that phrase... you aren't from here, after all. The girl with blood in her hair, and now, blood on her hands. And that weight on your back... how much time have you bought her? The Tunneler's bite is not a quick, merciful end... it is a quick, PAINFUL demise... that you have merely delayed."-_

"So they're 'Tunnelers'," Dutch said. Pyrrha bit her lip, only to find Esteban's hand on her shoulder as he narrowed his eyes at the bot.

"We've bought her enough time to get her proper help," Six retorted.

 _-"How? Will you walk back to the Bear, wasting a valuable day, maybe two? She'll be dead by this time tomorrow. Or will you search through these ruins in hope of mercy? You will find none in the Divide, Courier. Or, if you are desperate, you could bend your knee to the old gods, and beg, as many did. The bombs fell on those who did and did not, all the same. You merely"-_

"You know what? I am really getting tired of you running your fucking mouth. Where the hell are we?" Five interrupted, folding his arms.

 _-"Th_ _e High Road... not the Divide yet, many more miles to walk. But... you got this far. You and that machine that shadows you..."-_

"Stop. Calling him. A machine."

"Look, if you're done pissing us off and wasting our damn time, can we get a move on?" Dutch asked. "I've got a lot of things on my itinerary, kicking your ass is next on the list."

 _-"I have one more thing to say. You. Girl. What is your name?"-_

Pyrrha looked confused for a second, before realizing she was being referred to. "I'm Pyrrha. Pyrrha Nikos."

 _-"Your friends are here. And they're alive... but one won't be for very long. The fool thinks steel can stop claw... soon they'll be proven wrong. Now go. Let us see if your kind have what it takes to survive in the new world..."-_

ED-E beeped exasperatedly, as if being the vessel for another's voice actually drained him. Six patted him on the back plate. "Come on. Your friend probably ran into Deathclaws."

"Death...claws?" Pyrrha repeated.

Five grinned, twirling his handguns, before holstering them, and taking his rifle off his back. "Oh, you're gonna learn today..."

* * *

In Weiss' defense, it was hot out in the open.

The Schnee darling had materialized in midair over a chasm that frankly scared all seven shades of figurative shit out of her. Luckily, she was just far enough to the side to land on the overpass, rather than take a rather large plunge that her Aura wouldn't necessarily save her from. She saw the trailer just one lane away from her... albeit in rather poor condition, and figured it would at least have air conditioning.

Oh-ho-ho, how wrong she was. It was even hotter in the damn trailer, and she was almost immediately greeted by the sound of something pounding on the ceiling of the trailer- said something was a giant lizard that had proceed to jump down, slink into the trailer, and drag her out into the road with those big, meaty hands, claws tipping each digit like longswords.

For some reason, her Semblance was failing her, and her Aura was not responding- thus, this creature had all the power in the world over her, save for her blade. She thrust Myrtenaster swiftly into the outstretched palm of the reptile, causing it to lurch back and roar in anger, before swiping the blade away. It smacked against the partition separating the road from the aforementioned chasm, but it might as well have fallen into it, for all the good it was doing Weiss right now.

She needed a glyph, NOW.

Frantically, she attempted to cast something, anything that would get her out of the current situation, only to suddenly find the ground above her and the sky below. Her sudden change of orientation was quickly revealed to be due to the monstrosity picking her up, followed by it rearing back and throwing her full force into the wall of the trailer.

Now, if her Aura were working, it would have hurt, but she'd be fine after about a second. Instead, the initial impact felt like she had been sucker-punched by an Ursa, but the angle of her landing immediately resulted in a loud, resonating _*_ _crack_ * from her right arm.

Her attempts to hold in her pained cry were admirable, but futile. Before she could even hit the ground, the creature gored her with one of its curving horns, pinning her to the trailer and punching a neat hole in the side. An attempt at breathing came out more as a pained gurgle, as the creature flicked its head to the side, throwing her broken-arm first onto the partition.

At least now she was in range of Myrtenaster.

She stuck out her good arm, blocking out the pain as best she could and grabbing Myrtenaster, and pressed her thumb against the hilt. 'Please, work, you overgrown, ornate toothpick!'

Although no glyph formed, a bold of Fire Dust suddenly bust forth from the blade, punching a neat hole in the chest of the creature. The thing stopped in its tracks, not making any further movement, as if confused as to what had just happened, and why there was a steaming, bloody hole in its chest. Moments later, it toppled forward, falling with a loud thud at Weiss' feet.

The heiress exhaled loudly, leaning her head back against the concrete, before groaning aloud at the pain in her midsection, back, and arm. "What w-ngh!" Whatever she was going to say was interrupted by another sharp jolt of pain from her attempt at movement.

'I need to assess my injuries,' she told herself, forcing herself to look down at her waist. Her dress had been torn open, a wide gash just below her navel indicating the entry point of the horn. Luckily, it looked like no important blood vessels were severed, although she was pretty sure she could see bone in one spot. Her right arm was definitely broken, and, due to the fact that her humerus bone was jutting out of her skin a good bit, it was a compound oblique fracture. She would need to find something to set the bone, then stitch up the wound, unless there was an actual medical professional anywhere near here- judging by the state of the area, she highly doubted it.

She turned to her right, seeing a group of figures jogging down the road. Mustering up her strength, she shouted down the road at them. "Help! I need medical assistance!"

Someone was carrying something on their shoulders- said individual stopped cold and shouted back. "Weiss!?"

"Pyrrha!?" Weiss responded, shocked.

"Weiss?" Yang-groan-yelled, immediately regretting said decision.

"Yang!?" Weiss yelled back.

"DON QUIXOTE, THE MAN OF LA MANCHAAAA!" Six shouted.

Dutch glared, Pyrrha raised an eyebrow, and Yang simply stated what everyone else was thinking. "Uh... what?"

"What, it's a joke, _hija_! You ever read a book?"

"I fail to see the humor," Dutch replied, before looking down the road. "You need help!?" he shouted to Weiss.

"I just said that, you dolt!"

"The hell'd you call me!?"

"Do you want to help me or not!?"

Dutch shook his head and ran forward, stopping just in front of the deathclaw. "Holy..." He knelt down, grabbing the thing by the jowl and checking to make sure it was actually, really dead. "You killed this thing?"

Weiss nodded.

"Well, beginners' fucking luck. Where you hurt?"

"My arm and my s-stomach."

"Right..." Five knelt down, examining the two wounds. "Six, grab our shit and get me the bandages, the arm brace, that emergency stapler, some iodine, and a .308 bullet! Redhead, put down the dead weight and rip a board off the ramp on that there trailer!"

"Don't we have stimpaks, Dutch?"

"I didn't see any."

"Of course..."

Although Pyrrha disagreed with his phrasing of her order, she complied, as did Six, who immediately threw off one of the two duffel bags above and below his survival pack and dropped it on the ground. He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a bullet and handing it to Five. "Why so specific this time?"

"It's the right size for the job. Alright, girlie, put it in your mouth."

"Why would I put a live round in my mouth!?" Weiss asked.

"Because I ain't letting you bite my damn finger, now shut up and put it there, tip first!"

Weiss scowled, but complied, balancing the cartridge between her teeth. Five looked over at Six, and nodded. "Alright, gimme the iodine. Get some of that old moonshine, too."

"But that's your drink! We didn't pack enough water for both of us."

"The Whiskey, Atomic Cocktails, and Sierra Martinis are for drinking, the moonshine is for cleaning the damn cloth, now get the damn iodine!"

" _Si, si, si..."_

He handed a plain orange bottle with a white cap to Five, who popped off the cap, then put it on the concrete. He proceeded to rip open the sleeve of Weiss' dress, which, to Yang's surprise, she didn't complain about, then picked back up the bottle, and poured a small amount of its contents into the broken skin. Weiss hissed in pain, her teeth clenching around the metal jacketing of the bullet.

"Oh, just you wait, we ain't even to the fun shit yet..." Five muttered. "Six, bandages and the brace."

"What's wrong, Dutch?"

"Fractured bone in the upper arm, clean stab nearly right through the abdomen, just above the appendix."

"What's the prognosis?" Pyrrha asked.

"She's gonna fucking die."

Pyrrha narrowed her eyes at him, still holding the plank in her hands.

"She's gonna be fine, I just need that board to splint her arm and some sutures for her stomach. Then I'll bandage it up and she'll be good as... well, good as she can be. Now gimme that board."

Pyrrha tossed it to him, and he caught it offhandedly, dropping it next to the cap of the iodine bottle.

" _Hijo_ , what did your mama tell you about playing nice with strangers?"

"Ever heard the sayin' about fuckin' with the dude who's holding the scalpel?"

"You aren't holding a scalpel, wise guy," Yang spoke up, her voice regaining most of its normal timbre.

"The point stands, shut up while I'm working." He stuck the nail between his teeth, jerking his head as hard as he could up and to the left. Luckily, the wood had started to rot, and the nail came out with ease. He spit the nail off to the side of the road, and reached his arm out to Esteban. "Bandages."

"I thought you were going to splint it?"

"Esteban, you need padding for the splint or else it irritates the wound. Give me the bandages."

"Right, right."

Esteban reached into one of the bags and pulled out a roll of linens that had seen far better days, handing the roll to Dutch. Weiss' eyes immediately noted the ruddy pallor on the makeshift padding. Indignant, she pulled her arm away, wincing at the sudden movement.

"You call THAT a bandage? Those things look absolutely filthy!"

"Well, I'm sorry that they don't got laundromats in the fucking middle of nowhere! I'm gonna clean 'em with this here moonshine anyway."

"Moonshine? You're going to pour LIQUOR on it? Oum only knows what kind of bacteria is in that swill!"

'Uh... what the fuck is an Oum?' Six asked himself, before dismissing the thought and focusing on the task at hand.

Dutch's head whipped around to Pyrrha and Yang, the former having moved to help the latter to a very shaky stand. "Is she always like this?"

Yang shrugged her shoulders.

"Esteban, hand me the moonshine."

Esteban handed a silver canteen to him, which Dutch proceed to open.

"Lord, beer me strength..." he muttered, downing the whole thing in one swig, as the assembled group watched in confusion. "Esteban, hand me the rest."

"That was the rest. You drank the majority of it yesterday."

Weiss' eyes widened in shock, which then morphed to anger. "You're telling me a drunkard is handling MY wellbeing?"

"Hey, lady, calm down, he knows what he's doing!" Esteban assured her.

"Oh, you're _damned right_ I know what I'm doing." Dutch growled, moving to Weiss' other side and grabbing her sleeve. "Sorry about your dress... not really sorry, honestly." With that, he ripped the sleeve from the shoulder down to the wrist, taking the slightly-more-clean fabric and returning to her injured arm. He hastily pushed the bone back, causing Weiss to bite the bullet again, and wrapped the sleeve around her arm.

"Where's the brace?"

"Here," Esteban replied, handing him... a leg brace.

"I told you to pack an arm brace!"

"Dutch, you packed our gear while you were high off your gourd on Rebound, don't you go blaming me."

Dutch groaned, frustration evident in his features as he set the brace. "Well, judging by the length of this here brace, bending your arm is gonna be a problem. I'm tightening it up as much as I can, so the bone can set back properly until we get an actual doctor, or an Auto-Doc, or somethin'. You got me?"

Weiss nodded.

"Now I gotta suture up your stomach. Get ready, this is gonna hurt like a bitch."

While Dutch was busy doctoring up Weiss, Esteban looked back at Pyrrha and Yang, who were both sitting by the trailer.

"So, this girl. Her name is Weiss?"

"Yeah. We're on the same team," Yang answered.

"Same team?" Esteban repeated.

"... look... there's obviously a lot that needs to be explained on both sides. If you don't mind, I'd prefer we discuss it when we are all unoccupied." Pyrrha stated. Six nodded in agreement.

"Very well then. I suppose there are some things we could talk about."

Meanwhile, Five put the finishing touches on his back-alley stitch job.

"Now gimme back my bullet."

Weiss spit the bullet at just the right angle for it to bounce off his nose.

"Smarmy little shit," he muttered, grabbing it off the ground and standing up, pulling her to her feet by her injured arm. "Oh, look! This one can walk!"

"You didn't bother to bandage the stomach wound, Dutch," Esteban pointed out.

"I'll do it myself," Weiss said, grabbing the linens off the ground. "I certainly don't want to enjoy his _enchanting_ company again."

"Fine by me. Tell you what, this trailer will make good shelter from the night winds." He looked over at Pyrrha, taking a sleeping bag off his back. "You and your friend can share this. I've got a couple of sheets I can give this other girl. Go ahead and set it up in there. I've got to talk to Dutch about something. Hey, Snow White, you can go in, too. I'll get us something to eat later." He tossed the bag to Pyrrha, who caught it and tossed it into the trailer in one fluid motion.

Weiss nodded, walking over to Pyrrha's side and helping the still somewhat woozy Yang into the trailer.

"What did you need to talk to me about?" Dutch asked.

"Keep your voice down."

"Why?"

Esteban suddenly lunged forward and grabbed his collar. "Because I don't want them to hear me ripping you a new asshole."

"Well, well, well, aren't you a little mad..."

"Boy, I had enough problems with your attitude when you were high, and now I find out you fucked up the packing for the trip too! I have no ammo for my Auto rifle, no energy cells, and a handful of Microfusion cells. We're out of stimpacks, we've got almost no water, and you don't have proper medical supplies because you're hopped up on... you took something before we went into the tunnel, didn't you?"

"I already told you, I took Steady this morning."

" _Dutch_..."

"... took another dose while you were busy running in."

"You little fuck."

"Look, I have a problem, I fuckin' get it! I don't need you to tell me how-"

"Keep. Your voice. Down. Now, you listen close, Dutch, because I will only tell you this once."

"I-"

"That was not a question, Dutch, that was a statement. Do you comply?"

"...fine."

"I'm going to give you till tomorrow morning to throw all of those chems off this overpass -don't think I won't resort to searching you- and when we get back to the Mojave proper, we're going straight to Usanagi's clinic and getting you detoxed. If I see you so much as breathing at chems again, I will lay you out like a rug."

"Fine."

"And another thing. You're gonna play nice with these kids. I don't know where they're from, but they certainly don't belong here, and I'm making it my business to keep them alive until I can get them somewhere safer than here. I don't care if that pisses you off. You're going to deal with it. _Tu sabes?_ "

"They seem plenty able to fight. They don't need a babysitter, old man."

"And yet here I am playing 'dad' with a 20 year old contract killer who runs packages on the side."

Five pinched the bridge of his nose, a long, drawn-out sigh flowing from his lips.

"...Even that little priss in the dress?"

Esteban sighed. "Yes... even the little priss in the dress..."

"Finally we agree on something in this conversation."

Esteban stood there, attempting to hold his glare for a few seconds, before lowering his head and chuckling. "Never have I ever seen someone bitch at their rescuer..."

"Remember me, old man?"

"Well, that was you, that doesn't count." he replied. "Look, you at least packed enough food. I'm going to get some of the Brahmin Steaks and some Instamash. You want something different?"

"I get the feeling the answer is 'it doesn't matter'."

"Yep, you're eating what I feed you."

"Riiiight. We eating in the trailer?"

"Unless you want every Deatchlaw in a ten mile radius to come over for tea time, then yes, we're gonna hide our dinner in the trailer."

"Alright then. You got the hot plate?"

"... I thought you had it."

"... Dutch."

"Yes?"

"Strike Two."

With that, Six slammed his head against the trailer, letting out a groan of frustration. "ED-E, please tell me you've got a hot plate somewhere in there."

 _*BEEPBEEBEEBEEBEEP BWOWOWOWP*_

"What do you mean 'your ass is on fire'!?"

* * *

ED-E proceeded to play a recording of someone whistling as the Brahmin steaks sizzled against his exhaust port.

"Well... our little robot is certainly a free-thinker..." Esteban muttered, sitting on top of a barrel.

"He is, indeed, quite imaginative..." Dutch agreed, taking a long drag off of a cigarette that ED-E had the courtesy to light for him. "Let me guess, he can toast bread too."

"Dutch, you remember the agreement, right?"

"Oh..." Dutch nodded, recalling with not a bit of fondness their 'good friend'. "We don't talk about toast."

"Wonder what those kids are up to?"

"You wanna go and ask?"

"I intended to give them time to catch up, Dutch, not to breathe down their necks every waking moment."

"You do it for me, why stop there?"

 _"_ _Chingate_."

"Same to your mother."

* * *

"So..." Pyrrha began, sitting on a rather large green box marked with a white star. "When did you get here?"

"About 10 minutes ago," Weiss replied.

"15 or 20," Yang answered. "You?"

"If that's the case... probably around thirty minutes." To be honest, the only standard she had for that benchmark was that she had been there longer than Yang supposedly had. For all she knew, it could have been five minutes ago. She sort of lost track in the moment. "Have you seen any of the others?"

"Unfortunately, no," Weiss replied. "Although, I find it likely that, if the three of us ended up here, the others that went missing did as well. Did you ever find Nora?"

"No, and before I... well, ended up here, Jaune went missing," Pyrrha explained. "Right after that, you messaged me."

"So, that means, best case scenario... Nora, Jaune, Ren, Yang, you, and myself are here. That's assuming the others didn't follow suit."

"Do you think they did?" Yang asked.

"Consider that I fell from the sky onto an overpass, was just attacked by a giant lizard, and was given field surgery by a swarthy drunk. Nothing is in the realm of impossibility at this point, in my opinion," Weiss deadpanned. "On top of that, I'm pretty sure these filthy rags will give me an infection."

"They don't look that bad, they're just... worn out..." Pyrrha said.

"Pyrrha, did you ever learn about dirty needles when you were a kid?" Yang asked, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, can we move on, there's something bugging me."

"What is it?"

"How the heck is he able to understand that robot?"

A curtain of silence fell over the three girls, the question hanging like a lampshade over them.

"Uh..." Pyrrha started.

"I think..." Weiss began.

"Ey, ladies!" Six shouted from outside the trailer. "You hungry?"

Immediately forgetting the previous question and remembering the empty hole in her stomach, Yang Xiao Long shot up like a bullet. "Yeah, baby!"

With that, the brawler all but ran out of the trailer, attempting to get first dibs, while her two companions followed behind.

* * *

 **Okay, another chapter out of the way! Yang's about half dead, Weiss is playing doctor, and Pyrrha... Pyrrhas.**

 **Next chapter is a bit of exposition, and will likely be a mite shorter than this one. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.**


	3. Chapter 3

The Wrong Place at The Wrong Time

Chapter 3

Take a Seat

Five leaned against the back wall of the trailer, nearest the door, a fresh cigarette cocked between his lips as he rested a broken plate on his lap. He wasn't really hungry, truth be told, but he supposed he'd just nibble on it till later.

The same could not be said of at least one of his new guests.

Despite Six's warning for her to take it slow, 'Yang' had already half devoured her Brahmin steak before starting to get nauseous, and the larger Courier held her worriedly while she puked her guts out off the highway, leaving Five alone with 'Weiss' and 'Pyrrha', neither of whom he liked too terribly much- not that he was enamored with Yang, either. Pyrrha seemed like too much of a goody-two-shoes for his tastes, and Weiss was a prissy little shit so far, and it looked like that wouldn't change anytime soon.

"As much as I'm grateful for something to eat, this tastes like garbage... not to mention that weird tingling in my mouth."

"That's called 'radiation'," Dutch informed her.

Weiss immediately spit her mouthful of food in Dutch's general direction, and he tilted his head just far enough to avoid the deluge of spit and veal. "RADIATION!? This meat is IRRADIATED?"

"Pretty much all of it is, around here."

"How are you people able to LIVE? If you eat three times a day with irradiated food, you're going to die, and die rather quickly!"

"We have Radaway and such for that. Besides, some people prefer the sting of a bit of uranium-236 in their diet. Relax, Snow White, you won't get poisoning from just getting eats."

Pyrrha simply poked at hers, her appetite having been thrown out the window by sudden revelation that she was eating 'tainted meat'.

"Aw come on, didn't y'alls mamas teach you not to waste none?"

"My mother provided me with NON-IRRADIATED MEALS, you ignoramus."

"What'd you just call me?"

"Oh, excuse me, allow me to spell it out for you. Imbecile, dolt, nincompoop, autist, mentally-impaired, stupid-"

Six interrupted her by barging in with Yang half slung on his shoulder. "What'd I miss?"

"Bitchin', and moanin', and bitchin', and moanin', and bitchin'-"

"Alright, I get the point..." Six stopped him, setting Yang down beside Weiss. "You feeling okay, Yang?"

"A bit better," she replied, shaking her head. "Probably need to sleep it off..."

"Ey, that'll do you some good." Six stood up to as close to full height as he could in the cramped trailer, looking down at his traveling companions. "You guys aren't hungry?"

"Did you know this food is contaminated?" Weiss asked him, blunt and to the point.

"... it's rotten?"

"It's irradiated," she corrected him.

"Uh, _hija,_ all meat is irradiated these days. You should know that."

"I don't believe I had any reason to, considering I've never had a beef steak that registered on a Geiger counter till today!"

"... you're not from around here, are you?" he asked, sitting down next to Five. Pyrrha noticed that, even while sitting, the man was, simply put, massive. She had caught a glimpse of it back in that building with the Marked One, but she had incorrectly estimated his size. He was at least six and a half feet tall, likely taller, and likely north of 250 pounds. He was built like a tournament fighter- frankly, he wouldn't have looked out of place in the brackets where she spent her youth.

"I believe that depends, sir," she replied, "on where 'here' is."

"The Divide," he replied. "Northwest of the Mojave Desert, in Southern California."

"I don't know any of those places," Pyrrha replied.

"Well butter my dick and call me a biscuit, we've got ourselves a idjit..." Five muttered.

"Ok, then, _Carmesí,_ let me try something else. Where are you all from?" Six asked.

"I'm from the city of Briseis, in the Kingdom of Mistral," Pyrrha replied.

"Patch, in Vale." Yang followed.

"Atlas," Weiss snapped.

"Nope, nope, and hell if I know," Five informed Six- of the two of them, Five was by far the more well-travelled. "An atlas is a kind of map... but hey, maybe someone got creative and named their settlement that."

"I've never heard of such places. I'm from..." Six began, putting a hand to his head, as if he were deep in thought. "I'm from..."

Yang raised an eyebrow, Weiss tilted her head, and Pyrrha's lips curled into a frown.

"Don't bust a blood vessel, old man," Five said. "Just admit it."

Six sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't remember."

"That's unfortunate," Pyrrha said.

"Yeah, it is, _Carmesí._ "

"You keep calling me that. What does that mean?"

" _Te hablas espanol,_ _me c_ _ariño_?"

"Um..."

"He asked if you speak Spanish," Five informed her, taking another long drag from his cancer stick. "Obviously, you don't."

"It's 'Crimson' in Spanish. I thought your hair color was striking, and it was the first thing that came to mind."

"What's Spanish?"

It was Six's turn to look confused. "It's the language of Spain and the former colonies of it."

"What's a 'Spain'?"

Five asked, chuckling. "That there is some pretty funny shit."

"I would appreciate it if you cut back on the profanity. You sound almost as uncultured as you look," Weiss grumbled.

Five stood up, his hand immediately going to his gun as his plate fell off his lap and onto the floor in front of him. "Did I just hear you correctly? I appear to have trouble hearing you, can you repeat that for me?"

"I said-"

"Dutch, sit down and cut out that talk," Six ordered.

"Aw, come the fu-"

"Dutch..."

"I can't even speak freely? What is she, my mother?"

"You'll treat her with the same respect you gave your mother... on second thought, better than that, you seem like you were a problem child."

"Daaaaaaaaamn!" Yang guffawed. "That hurt me, and I wasn't even in this conversation!"

Six cut his eyes at her, and Yang wisely quieted down. He looked at Weiss next. "Can I ask you to play nice with Dutch for at least tonight? If I hear any more lip from anyone, I'm going to rupture my eardrums with ED-E's built in radio."

"As long as he doesn't speak, I believe I'll be fine."

Six sighed. "Fine. Neither of you speak to each other."

"Yes, _dad_ ," Five mouthed off, rolling his eyes.

Six turned his attention back to Pyrrha. "Now, let me ask you this. This is gonna sound weird, and I'm pretty sure I know the answer already... do you know where the United States are?"

"No, sir."

"North America?"

"No, sir."

"Earth?"

"... No, sir."

Five drew Lucky, clearing his throat. "Alright, 'Pyrrha', I'm gonna go ahead and put you out of your misery. Didn't know senility struck this young, but I'll make it as quick and painless as I can. Oh Lord, I pray for the soul I commit to you-"

"Dutch, put your fucking gun up!" Six shouted. "She's perfectly sane!"

"Kidding, kidding! Can't take a joke, old man!?"

"Considering your attitude towards us up to now... I woulda jumped you if I didn't feel like Death was giving me the stink eye," Yang informed him.

"Okay, can we all shut up and stop with the hostility while I try to figure out what the hell is going on?" Six asked. The trailer fell silent.

"Any objections?"

No one had any.

"Good. Now, you say you have no idea what planet Earth is?"

"No, sir," Pyrrha replied.

"Then what planet are you from?"

"Remnant."

"Remnant!? THE Remnant!?" Five asked, lighting up like a Christmas tree.

Pyrrha smiled back, a faint ray of hope now visible in this dark situation. "You know where it is?"

"I'm just fuckin' with you." Five replied, and Pyrrha's almost literally deflated, her smile becoming a confused frown.

"Jeez, does being a dick get you off, or something?" Yang asked.

"Only on days ending with 'y', darlin'."

"Dutch, can you take this seriously for five minutes before I let Yang try and castrate you?"

Dutch rolled his eyes. "Apologies."

"Look... I don't know where Remnant is," Six informed Pyrrha, "but I know a couple of groups of people that might be able to help you find it. But I have business to take care of, and that will have to come first. Is that okay with you?"

Pyrrha looked back at Yang, who replied with a simple 'Why not?', then over at Weiss, who nodded. She looked back at Six.

"That's fine with us."

"Now... earlier, I remember you saying something about you having friends. Eight of them, counting you, and now, I assume, counting Weiss and Yang. Correct?"

"Yes. There's Ruby, Blake, Jaune, Nora, and Ren."

"Have we met anyone by those names, Dutch?"

"You wouldn't have," Pyrrha answered, "Jaune went missing right before I got here, and I didn't see him when I followed you.'

"So you WERE following us," Five replied. "Ain't you a snake."

If looks could kill, Dutch reckoned he'd be deader than a white man in Zion Canyon. In what was perhaps the most humiliating moment of his interactions with 'Pyrrha Nikos', he looked away under the rather withering gaze she threw at him.

Six shook his head, then looked back at Pyrrha. "General descriptions? We may have seen them."

"I doubt it, but... Ruby's small, wears a red cape, carries around a large scythe, you can't miss her."

"Dutch?"

"Ain't seen no one like that."

"Continue."

So Pyrrha did. "Blake has long black hair, wears a large bow and a lot of black. She spends a lot of time reading."

"Familiar?" Six asked his partner.

"Nope."

"Jaune's about six foot one, blonde hair, blue eyes, about 190 pounds, give or take, wears a black hoodie with armored plating, and carries a sword and shield. He likes comic books and playing his-"

"Uh..." Five began, confused. "Why didn't you go into that much detail with the others?"

"Yeah... I was wondering that," Six agreed, raising a bushy brow.

"No reason. Have you seen him?"

"Although I own a coat similar to the one you describe, I'm afraid I am not 'Jaune'," Dutch replied.

"I haven't seen anyone like that either. Who are the others?" Six asked.

"Nora's about..."

"My height, maybe a bit taller," Weiss says. "You'd know if you'd seen her. She leaves a rather large footprint."

"Elaborate on that, if you don't mind?" Six asked.

"She likes to make things go kaboom," Yang summarized.

"I believe I found your long lost daughter, old man," Five sniped.

"I haven't seen any explosions that weren't caused by me, or anyone that short that isn't a Tunneler. And this 'Ren'?"

"He has a pink streak in his hair," Pyrrha said, "and pink eyes. He has a small pair of handguns and tends to meditate whenever he's stressed."

"Sounds like an Oriental. Haven't seen any here," Five stated.

"Afraid not... If you all ended up here, maybe they did, too," Six hypothesized. "Hopefully. It's getting late, and the Deathclaws are probably prowling now. In a few minutes, I'm calling lights out. We'll head out first thing in the morning. Hopefully we'll find those friends of yours. If not here, they're probably not that far, and we'll look for them as we go, okay?"

The girls nodded, with Pyrrha proffering a quick "Thank you."

"Not a problem," the big man replied. "If they're in the Mojave, we'll find them."

"You've got the best tracker and baddest package courier in the Wasteland on your side, now. I think your chances are looking quite rosy," Five added, smirking as he took one last hit from his cigarette, his hand shaking steadily as he did so.

* * *

 _A few hours later_

 _Near the Silo_

Well, things could be worse. Jaune Arc could be dead. Jaune Arc could be dying. Jaune Arc could be in danger of dying.

Okay, he wasn't ruling that last one out yet. Those freaky guys certainly didn't like they would welcome him with open eyes. They were all carrying rather large firearms, or blades, or, in one's case, a _CHAINSAW_!

He peeked out from behind the pile of rubble he had claimed as his hiding place, waiting to see if they'd left or went to sleep. A few of them had laid down on some old mats, but there were still plenty of them awake- in fact, the crowd seemed to have grown bigger. He looked down at his Scroll. No word from anyone- no signal, even. When he looked back up, one of the strange men was staring right at him. He ducked right back down, Crocea Mors in a death grip.

If he had actually been seen, then they must have dismissed it, because no one came, even after a few minutes. Man, what he wouldn't do to have his team with him right now!

As he laid back against the pile of rubble, he took a long, quiet breath, and hoped to Oum that he'd make it to the morning.

* * *

 _Back at the trailer._

Five laid his hat on the ground beside him as he leaned over the freeway, cigarette long spent between his lips. He scanned the length of the highway, a lone Deathclaw skulking about at the end of it. He looked down over the concrete divider, deep in thought.

 _'Prolly could kill that thing if I felt like it... might wake up the rest of 'em, though. Six'd kill me if I woke him up again... but hell, need an excuse to kill something before I decide it ain't worth keeping those girls around.'_

Finally, he shrugged his shoulders, reaching into his pocket and grabbing an all too familiar syringe. He had remembered to pack a good bit of Steady, so he wouldn't have to go through withdrawals like the last time he was caught away from civilization. With practiced aim, he jabbed the needle into his upper arm, having no problem finding the vein as he depressed the plunger. He could feel the calming effect almost immediately.

"Much better..." he muttered as he looked back down the overpass. The Deathclaw still stood there.

"I'm feeling lucky today," he mused, reaching behind his back and drawing one of his blades- a long, broad machete. It'd be quieter than gunfire, although the Deathclaw would make plenty of noise once it started bleeding enough. He twirled the blade in his hand, feeling the weight once more as he did so. The Deathclaw, still oblivious to his presence, began to rear up, sniffing the air.

"Welp, your ticket has been punched, scaly," Five quipped, as he slowly walked towards the large reptile. Considering what would be required of him, he didn't bother to pick up his hat. His boots thudded against the pavement, the chains he had wrapped around them to emulate the sound of spurs jangling slightly with every step. After only five paces, the Deathclaw was on full alert, looking for the source of the sounds. Another five, and its beady eyes locked down on him.

"Hello there!" He greeted the creature. "Might I say you are an ugly son of a bitch this fine evenin'?"

The creature growled, bowing its back slightly as it readied itself to pounce. Five twirled the blade again, and made a 'come-hither' gesture with his free hand. The Deathclaw obliged without hesitation, lunging forward with claws stretched wide. Five rolled under its clumsy swipe, taking a quick slash at the creature's leg. It growled in frustration, swiping its tail to knock him down, which he flipped over with ease, performing a pair of crossing slashes on the Deathclaw's back as it turned to backhand him. He handsprung back out of the way of the strike, coming to a stop a few feet away. A small bead of sweat was already forming on his brow.

 _'I LOVE this shit_ ,' he thought to himself, as he switched to a backhanded hold and rushed forward. The Deathclaw roared, swinging both meaty hands together to crush/flay Five beneath them, which Five responded to by sliding between its legs and stabbing upward. The groin shot was nowhere near lethal, but BY GOD did he find the roar of agony following it satisfying. Quickly rolling out of the way of another tail slap, he kipped up to his feet, just in time to weave out of the way of another slash from the creature, slicing the proffered hand for good measure. The creature swung with the other hand, which Five twirled out of the way of before slicing it as well.

He was right by the divider, if memory served him well enough. That would be the perfect launching point. Of course, if he failed he'd land on some rather sharp spines, but Dutch Van Fleet did NOT fail.

The Deathclaw changed tactics, following its next swing up with a sweep of the tail, the first of which was ducked, and the other of which was effortlessly backflipped over, with Five landing in the exact same spot he jumped from.

"NAILED IT!" He shouted, before performing a more looping version of the maneuver to land on the divider. His right foot slipped for a moment, and for that one moment, Five immediately began to have a mental breakdown, before reminding himself that he was fucked either way if he didn't do what he planned to. Righting himself just in time to avoid another slash, he performed a single bouncing test jump, before leaping over the Deathclaw's head.

"Aaaaaaaand-"

He jabbed the blade straight back, and the satisfying * _squelch*_ indicated that he had timed his strike perfectly, the blade sinking into the base of the Deathclaw's skull just through the spinal cord. Digging the blade in as deep as he could, he then jerked the machete upward, intending to sever the spine or at least pierce what little brain the thing had.

The beast jerked with the initial impact, but stilled, slumping forward over the overpass as he hopped off of it, landing on one foot and rolling to his knees. From there, he proceeded to roll on his back, his breath coming out in a ragged heave.

"Damn right..."

He turned his head back to the trailer, finding that Six and Pyrrha were both standing outside, staring directly at him. The former was holding his hat.

"Hello!" he said.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Six asked.

"I , uh... I was gonna take a piss, and he got in the way!"

Six raised an eyebrow, then sighed as he shook his head. "This one couldn't sleep and heard the noise, so she woke up. I heard her get up, so I did, too. Figured you'd gone and done something stupid."

"I appear to be unharmed, old man. You can sleep now."

Six shook his head again, and walked off. Pyrrha continued to watch him as he stood up and dusted himself off. Five noted the gaze, and looked up at her.

"Do we have a problem, missy?"

She didn't respond, but walked away all the same.

* * *

 **Why yes, Five does have 10 AGI stat, thank you for noticing!**

 **Anyway, the Jaune bit pretty much gives away who we're gonna see next, so hold onto your butts. Sorry for the delay on this chapter, by the way- the beast that is college came back to bite me in the ass.**

 **Until next time, chaps!**


	4. Chapter 4

The Wrong Place at The Wrong Time

Chapter 4

Setting Sail

Another early morning for the Couriers.

As was the usual for the duo, Five was awake first, by virtue of sleeping all of two or three hours. Unlike the usual, they had guests that mucked up the routine for the gunslinger, as instead of just waiting for Six to get up, he was going to have to deal with the wonderful company as well.

Pyrrha slept with her weapons in hand, shield braced over her chest, her blade resting over it, as if she expected to wake up in a fight. She woke as soon as Five did, the noise of the addict pulling himself out of a drowsy stupor and clattering and clanging around the trailer. Six was next, having routine on his side, waking up exactly five minutes after Five did. Weiss, meanwhile, was also awakened by Five's stumbling about, and was currently forcing herself not to swear a blue streak at the man, while Yang...

Yang just snored.

"Loud enough to wake the dead!" Five yawned, ruffling his hair as he looked over at the blonde brawler. "She always sleeps this hard?"

"Usually," Weiss replied, a mite of irritation seeping into her voice.

"Six, we got anything for breakfast?"

"Not really, _hijo_. We're on emergency rations now. If we're gonna feed eight kids, we need plenty of eats."

"Fuck me in the ass and call me the Dutchess..." he muttered. "Why don't you just cut up that deathclaw I killed?"

"Meat's too tough, and it's a male- didn't have any eggs."

Five groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he put his hat back in its rightful place, checking his holsters to make sure no one had nicked his shit in the night. Sure enough, Lucky and The Last Word were still holstered, and the unloaded Medicine Stick still rested on his back. He took said rifle off his back, reaching into the small satchel on the side of his outfit, fiddling about for a few 45-70 rounds, loading up the rifle. "So, we gonna head out when Blondie here wakes up?"

"If she isn't up soon, you should wake her. I'm not leaving her behind, even if we are coming back here," Pyrrha replied.

"Hot diggity damn, young lady, I don't believe I was asking you a question! Six, we gonna head out when-"

"I agree with _Carmesí_. Too dangerous to go leaving people behind," Six answered him. "Besides, we may not be able to come back this way."

"What makes you think that?"

"Aren't you the one who always says 'plans are useless, planning is indispensable'?"

"Wasn't me that came up with it, but a good quote. I'll wake the bitch. Hey, Blondie! Wake your ass up!" Dutch shouted, giving a rather wimpy kick to the small of Yang's back. "Rise and shine, Goldilocks, your pals ain't gonna just walk up and find us on their own."

Yang muttered something about bumblebees and kittens before slowly looking up at Dutch. "Oh, don't tell me- I'm dead, and this is hell."

"Close as you can get to it. Now get up."

"Ay-yi-yi..." Yang grumbled, standing up and brushing off her shorts. She turned about, grabbing Ember Celica off a stack of crates in the trailer, sliding the two gauntlets into place and punching them together experimentally. "Where are we going?"

"Yellow brick fucking road," Five answered.

"As far down the overpass as we can go," Six corrected, cutting his eyes at Five. "And if something gets in the way... we remove it."

ED-E proceeded to play a snippet of a song from some old action movie.

"And if your friends show up, then we'll bail them out of whatever trouble they most certainly have gotten themselves into," Five continued. "Y'all evidently know how to fight, so I ain't gonna babysit you."

"But if you get in trouble, and we're not right there, give us a shout. We shouldn't be far from you, though," Six finished.

"Got it," Yang confirmed, nodding her head. "Try not to get in my way."

"Likewise," Five replied, before he stepped out of the trailer. Six followed suit, as did the girls and ED-E. Upon stepping out, Five slung Medicine Stick off of his back, and reached into his satchel to start loading the gun. While doing so, he looked down the overpass, taking stock of what lied ahead. So far he could see four Deathclaws, none of which were too big for them to handle one at a time. The issue would be if they started to swarm.

"See anything, Dutch?" Six asked.

"Four Deathclaws."

"Tight grouping?"

"First two aren't too far apart, third and fourth a good ten yards back from either. I can snipe one of em."

"If it helps us keep moving quicker, then do it."

"Right-o." Five shouldered his rifle, staring down the barrel at the nearest Deathclaw. Carefully, he adjusted the windage sight by a few degrees, brushing his finger over the receiver on its way down to the trigger. With a slow, quiet inhale, he centered his sight on the skull of the abomination, and pulled the trigger. The Deathclaw's head jerked back, a font of blood pouring from just between its eyes.

"Got 'im." Five pulled the lever and adjusted his aim to the second Deathclaw, before squeezing the trigger again. This time, the shot went off to the right. With a grunt, he worked the action again-

 _*KRAKK*_

-and watched as the Deathclaw's head was blown into a mess of bloody chunks. He jerked his head to the source of the shot, finding Pyrrha in an exact mirror of his pose, save for her weapon lacking a lever. The redhead looked over the rifle at him, and nodded.

"...not bad..." he conceded, before looking back down the road. "Don't trust myself at this range, let's close the gap a bit."

"Dutch, they're moving towards us," Six reminded him.

"Well maybe I wanna be double sure." With that, Five stepped forward, taking another shot at the third Deathclaw. His shot glanced its shoulder. Miló barked again, the shot blowing out the gut of said Deathclaw. With a grunt of frustration, Five pulled the lever and blew the head off the thing anyway. Quickly, he snapped to the last Deathclaw, and fired, hitting the creature dead center of the chest. The Deathclaw staggered, attempting to right itself as Pyrrha fired again. Her shot nailed it just below the horn, leading to the Deathclaw's head being busted like a melon on the right side, leaving a limply flapping jaw and a bit of skull left behind. Pyrrha flinched slightly, but otherwise showed no feeling on the matter.

Five whipped his head about again and scowled at the girl. "Did I ASK for your assistance?"

"I was afraid they'd be able to close the distance if you missed."

"I don't need you to call my skills into question."

Weiss rolled her eyes, while Yang exhaled loudly. Pyrrha shook her head, and looked back down the road. "Shall we be going?"

"...bite me..."

* * *

 _At the Marked Men Camp_

"DustdammitDustdammitDUSTDAMMIIIIIIIT!" Jaune shrieked, raising his shield just in time to stop the chainsaw that was just swinging down at his skull. "Why can't we talk this out!?"

Jaune certainly hadn't planned on being in this situation. These guys were bad news, and even HE could have told you that having just met them yesterday. He was going to avoid them, mind his own business, and try and find his friends, but noooooo, this joker had to come behind Jaune's designated hidey hole and try and take a piss! Jaune was all for stealthing things out, but he was NOT going to get peed on. That was one bridge too far!

And now he had people stabbing and sawing at him. The things Jaune did to keep his dignity.

Ducking under another chainsaw swing, Jaune shoved the chainsaw-wielder aside and rushed forward, attempting to get the h-e-double-l out of dodge right then, only for a bullet to attempt to change his mind by smacking into the pavement directly in front of him. "Jeez! What did I do to you!?"

The chainsaw guy came charging back, one of his big-fuck-you-sword wielding counterparts alongside, stabbing at Jaune with the saw. Jaune parried the attack, then leaned back in order to avoid getting his head taken off by the giant sword. He took a quick slash at the sword wielder, nicking the exposed red flesh around the eye- and by extension, the eye itself. With a howl of rage, the swordsman backed off for the moment, leaving Jaune and Chainsaw guy to duke it out (and that dude with the gun who just couldn't leave well enough alone!).

"Whoa!" Jaune jumped over a low sweep from the chainsaw, trying to think of some way of getting this guy down for the count.

* * *

 _FLASHBACK_

 _Pyrrha launched off the wall, throwing her shield like a discus at one of the target dummies. The impact sent the head of the dummy snapping back, and the shield effortlessly returned to his partner's hand. She hadn't even used her Semblance this time._

 _"Whoah! How did you do that?" he asked._

 _"It takes a lot of practice, Jaune. I wasn't able to do that until at least a year after I got Akoúo. You see, you have to be able to calculate the angle at which you hit the target..."_

 _END FLASHBACK_

* * *

 _"LIGHT BUUUUUULB!"_ Jaune thought, jumping back a bit and rearing to throw his shield. _"Angle, angle, angleeee..."_

"Hey, catch!" he shouted.

With that, he tossed the shield, which careened through the air like a brick and smacked into a pile of rubble. The masked man with the chainsaw looked back at it, as if he were checking to make sure that had just happened.

"Oh, come ooo- HEY! WATCH IT!" Jaune was interrupted by another chainsaw swing which glanced off of his breastplate, eliciting another yelp from the hunter-in-training. He swung his sword wildly, the blade passing harmlessly over the head of his assailant, who swung his chainsaw at the appendage. Jaune dove off to the side, crashing onto the pavement, but at least he still had his arm. The chainsaw glanced off the asphalt near his head and as he rolled to the side, the blade just barely grazed the back of his hoodie, scratching over the back armored plate.

"Oohohohohoooo Dust I am gonna die!"

Jaune scrambled to his feet and raised Crocea Mors to block the oncoming chainsaw swing, his arm buckling from the impact. He heard the sound of footsteps behind him, and immediately juked to the side, the _*whoosh*_ of the large blade coming down on empty air filling his ears. With a twist of the hips, he swung about, the edge of the blade carving right through the unarmored skull of the swordsman.

Jaune stopped, his eyes widening as the body fell, blood seeping from the wound he had made. In this state of shell shock, he couldn't possibly have heard the chainsaw coming down for his neck. Or somebody shouting for him to move.

Or the gunshot.

That is, the gunshot that sent the chainsaw off target and grazed Jaune's greave, knocking him back into coherence as he ran for his shield.

* * *

Pyrrha shifted her weapon to javelin form and spiked it towards the chainsaw wielder, nailing him through the eye slat on his helmet and pinning him to a slab of concrete. Raising her shield to block the blade of another attacker, she realized since her Semblance wasn't working, she couldn't recall her weapon.

Thankfully, she didn't need to. Five came up from her right side, jamming his pistol into the chest of her attacker and firing, sending him stumbling back.

"Duck!" Five ordered, and Pyrrha complied, allowing him to fire over her head at another Marked Man, sending him rolling over a small pile of debris. A few feet away, Six slammed the head of another one into a low wall, before turning said head into paste with a single punch. Weiss and Yang tag-teamed another pair of the ghouls, the latter uppercutting the Marked Scout with a shotgun-enhanced fist, sending what was left of his head flying off into the air, while Weiss effortlessly sidestepped, disarmed, and skewered through the head her adversary.

"This is barbaric..." She grumbled, withdrawing and flicking the blood off the blade.

"You're telling me..." Yang agreed, trying to ignore the warm, sticky blood congealing on her face.

"Still a few more!" Six reminded them, catching the blade of one of said survivors before punching him with Two-Step Goodbye, then backhanding him with Pushy. The explosion that followed threw a severed arm into the air, which Six caught and slapped another one with, before drawing Lil' Devil and firing two shots into the Marked Man's gut.

"Not a problem!" Five and Pyrrha said in unison, raising their weapons at a Marked Man currently locked up with Jaune. ED-E, helpful as always, dashed up behind them and played the Cavalry Charge Bugle Call.

"Jaune, look out!" "Duck, fuckin' idjit!"

Jaune dropped like a stone, and the two fired, both shots slamming into the chest of the Marked Man, leaving a rather large, gurgling entry wound, with a clear view of the short road behind him. The ghoul fell to its knees, then flopped forward at Jaune's feet.

The last ghoul charged Yang, who raised an eyebrow at the assailant. Sidestepping his lopsided swing of a sledgehammer, she swept his legs with her right arm, before sidestepping and firing a blast from Ember Celica straight into the Marked Man's head.

"Aaaaaaand that's a wrap," she said, wiping her face. "Eughhhh..."

Five blew the smoke from Lucky's barrel and twirled the weapon before holstering it, punching Pyrrha in the shoulder with his free hand. "Four to four."

"You're keeping count?" She asked.

"You aren't?"

"Holy CRAP!" Jaune shouted. "That was AWESOME. I mean..." He cleared his throat, attempting to sound a bit more dignified. "Good effort, everybody."

"Yeah, nice shield throw, buddy-ro! I ain't trusting you with a gun anytime soon, you'll prolly try and stab people with it!" Five replied.

"Good effort, Jaune!" Pyrrha encouraged him, throwing a thumbs up.

"Uh... so we all ended up here?" He asked, stretching his arm as he shifted Crocea Mors to sword-and-sheath form, and holstered it on his belt.

"Maybe so, maybe not. I dunno," Yang said. "I hope so, anyway- I'm starting to worry about Rubes."

"Ruby's fine. Nothing in here could get within shouting distance of her, let alone kill her," Weiss stated.

"Weeeeeeeell..." Five began, only for Six to raise a hand and cut him off.

"You," he began, looking at Jaune. "Your name is Jaune, correct?"

"Yeah. Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue. Ladies love it."

"Oh, Oum almighty..." Weiss griped.

"Jesus fuck..." Five groaned.

"Well, we've been looking for you. I'm Esteban, the robot is ED-E, and the smartass with the stupid hat is Dutch."

"I resent that, old man!"

" _Chingate_."

"Backatcha."

"Uh... yeah. I'll pretend I know what that means," Jaune said. "So, you're looking for the others too?"

"Yes, Jaune," Pyrrha answered. "Mister Esteban was kind enough to offer to help us find a way home later on as well."

"Let's focus on finding the rest of your friends, first. Jaune, have you seen any of your friends?" Six asked.

"Uh... no. I've been here since I ended up... wherever here is."

"I'm just gonna take a raincheck on the explanations until everyone's around to hear them," Six stated, cracking his knuckles. "Jaune, are you injured in any way?"

"A little shook up, but I'm fine... for now."

"Good, because we have to keep moving." With that, Six began to walk ahead, only to stop as a voice crackled to life once again from ED-E.

 _-"Not dead yet, Courier?"-_

Six sighed loudly, and turned around to look at ED-E. "What now, Ulysses? Lecturing me more about 'history'? What I supposedly did here? What now? Whaaaat, Whaaat, WHAAAAAAT!?"

 _-"None of those things... up ahead... At the end of the road lies Ashton- its silo. That machine of yours can open it up, like it did the one in Hopeville..."-_

"Tell me, _puede usted_ , why I would do that?"

- _"The controls to the silo are bound to the door forward... you must open the silo to progress..."-_

"Now that's some bona-fide bullshit," Five replied. "I ain't messin' with no missiles or nothing else today. I've done enough."

" _Joderlo_ ," Six muttered, skulking forward down the road. "Where the hell is this silo..."

* * *

"Here it is..." Six muttered, looking down at the terminal in front of him. "Definitely beyond my comprehension..."

He looked over his shoulder at the assembled group behind him. "ED-E, crack this thing for me."

 _*BwoooooWOPWOPWOPWOPWOP?*_

"Yes, I'm sure. I'm not making a decision yet."

"He can talk to robots?" Jaune asked Pyrrha, whispering.

"Apparently so," she replied.

ED-E zapped the console, and the small dish on the site of it began to whirr and spin, sending out its signal to the base.

"Can you open the door, Five?" Six asked.

"He said-" the younger Courier began.

"Please, check."

Five noted that the elder man sounded rattled- unusually so. "Six, it'll be just like the last silo, the missile will be busted up and won't launch. It's fine. You aren't gonna start a war."

"Dutch... please. The door."

Five walked over to the door, and pressed the button alongside it. Nothing happened, so he pressed it again. When nothing happened still, he double pressed it. The same result came to pass. "Looks like you gotta chuck the nuclear football."

"God forgive me if this goes badly..." Six muttered, tapping the button. The earth steadily shook underneath them as the silo doors started to open. Curious, ED-E flew over to Six's side, with Pyrrha, Yang, Weiss, and Jaune following suit. Five came up last, just in time to see the tip of an IBCM begin to rise from the silo.

"Oh... my... god..." Five muttered, awestruck.

"Where is it going?" Pyrrha asked, worry evident on her features.

"Detonate it before it can go any farther!" Weiss ordered.

Six started pounding on a large yellow button on the console, but nothing happened. The missile continued uninhibited on its journey.

"Why isn't it blowing up!?" Six shouted.

 _*DeeDEETEDEETEDDEEEEET*_

"If it's corrupted, fix it!"

* _WOPWOPWOPWOPWOPWAAAAAH*_

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T FIX IT!?"

The missile careened over their heads, wobbling slightly on its path. About five seconds later, a loud blast indicated something had been hit.

"Oh... thank god, it hit somewhere in the Divide... Surely there's no one here..." Six muttered, relieved.

"Suppose we lucked out," Five said, backing towards the door and elbowing the button. The door opened behind him. "Well how do you fucking do!" he shouted, triumphant. "Come on, ya'll!"

Six stepped away from the console, another long exhale flowing from his lips as he entered the silo. Weiss, then Yang followed suit. ED-E beeped in what sounded like a laugh, and followed her. Jaune turned to follow, only for Pyrrha to grab his arm.

"What's up?" he asked, smiling.

"I..." Pyrrha started, "...I, uh..."

Five peeked out of the door, eyebrow raised.

"I'm glad you're okay, Jaune," she said, offering a wan smile.

"Well, I'm glad too. Glad that you're okay, I mean. I mean, I'm glad that I'm okay, but-"

Pyrrha chuckled, and pushed him gently as she, too entered the silo. With a shrug of the shoulders and a rub of the neck, Jaune followed, leaving Five to shut the door to the outside.

* * *

 **If you played Fallout New Vegas, you know what comes next... it's the one, the only...** **SIKE. Next chapter you'll find out.**

 **Todays Fanfiction News: Jaune's back, everyone has killed somebody now, and ED-E is robo-cinnamon roll. More on these stories as they develop.**

 **By the way, If you want to know what's going on back on Remnant, be sure to check out my RWBY fic, "A Different Place at a Different Time," which will show what's going on without the canon cast... it's gonna be a wild ride.**

 **Until next chappie, lads and lasses, this is Shock Factor, signing off!**


	5. Chapter 5

The Wrong Place at The Wrong Time

Chapter 5

Hellevator Ride

"Well, this isn't foreboding at all! No sir, not a single bit ominous, nuh-uh-uh." Jaune stated, looking down the hall at the open space ahead.

"Looks like a big ol' lift," Five said. "Big enough for large cargo, or big groups of people. Looks like the only way down as well."

"Oh, boy..." the blonde boy whined, an audible gulp following the statement.

*BWOP* ED-E chimed.

"ED-E says this is the only way down," Six said. "Pip-Boy radar isn't picking anything up, either. Come on."

Six stepped into the hall, heading for the lift, coat billowing behind him. Yang and Five followed suit, with the rest going after them, and ED-E bringing up the rear. To say the lift was a tight squeeze would be an understatement.

"With the benefit of hindsight..." Five trailed off, pressed against the back left corner by Jaune. "It's smaller than it looks."

"Well, if this doesn't scream 'trap'," Weiss deadpanned.

"Aw, it's not that bad," Yang said, leaning in the front right corner.

"I've got my head half in this boy's armpit and if Red sneezes she's gonna knee me in the crotch."

Pyrrha, proving herself to not be so above it all, fetched up a fake sniffle, causing Five to clench his legs.

"I will shove my gun so far down your throat that lead will leak out of your cu-"

"And just when I thought you children were going to play nice. ED-E, turn this piece of shit on," Six ordered.

ED-E beeped in assent, and interfaced with the console, unlocking it for use. Six slammed the button on the console, and the platform shook like a leaf in a hurricane.

"Jejejejejejejesus fuckuckuckucking Chchchchchrist!" Five stammered, having been thrown to the floor and bounced relentlessly against the metal.

"Is this thththting going to ststart moving!?" Jaune asked, grabbing onto the chain link gate on the lift for support. As if on cue, the lift jerked, sending Pyrrha crashing into Jaune, and ED-E tumbling into Six's back.

"ED-E, you can fly! That didn't do anything to you!" Six protested.

*WEEEEEERWEEERWEEEEOW* ED-E chirped innocently.

"Okay, I am officially SHOOK," Yang gasped as the lift began to go down, one hand on the console.

"I feel like my disco stick has been rammed into my spine." Five deadpanned as he struggled to his feet. "At least the fuckin' lift's working."

"Indeed. Things are finally looking up for the first time since I ended up in this dump..." Weiss assented, smirking as she tapped Myrtenaster against the floor of the lift.

"How long does this lift go down fo-" Pyrrha asked.

 _*BOOOOM*_

Weiss was thrown into Five's back by an explosion from behind the lift, her braced arm impacting the small of his back.

"Jesus Fuckin'-" Five shouted, another explosion cutting him off. "I hope whoever built this thing lost his fuckin' job!"

"Hate to interrupt our little siesta, but we've got company!" Six shouted, pointing right at a Tunneler climbing the side of the lift.

"You have got to be-" Weiss started, as the thing screeched and pounced at Six, who punched it into the floor of the lift, creating a small dent in the metal, and a rather gory, pasty crater in the back of the Tunneler's head. Six then proceeded to stomp directly on said crater and send his foot clean through the creature's head. More screeching and roaring from around the lift indicated that this was not going to be the end of this situation.

"What the heck are these things!?" Jaune asked, bringing his shield up just in time to intercept a venomous specimen, before pushing it into the grating, where Pyrrha skewered it through the head.

"Tunnelers! Don't let the _hijos des putas_ bite you!" Six answered

A larger specimen swung at Five, who attempted to back up, only to run into Weiss and ED-E, and take the blow to his stomach anyway. With a growl of anger, he drew his Bowie Knife and grabbed the Tunneler by the head, jabbing the long, wide knife into the throat of the abomination, sending fluorescent blood spraying over his midsection. With speed honed by years of training, he quickdrew Last Word and fired a .44 Magnum round straight through the skull of another one attempting to come over the barrier.

"Not this time, jackass!" Yang shouted as she caught a Tunneler that attempted to pounce on her, firing Ember Celica directly into its face.

*BWOWOWOWOWOWEEEEOW* ED-E warbled.

"Can barely move in here either!" Six shouted back, ripping the arm off of another Tunneler and kicking it into the grating, before drawing his pistol and splattering its head against the tunnel wall.

"I have an idea! We can go up!" Five suggested.

"What do you mean 'up'!?"

"Allow me to illustrate!" Five replied.

Pyrrha felt her feet leave the floor of the lift, and realized that she was now in a fireman's carry over Five's shoulder.

"Shoot 'em before they get over the barrier!" Five shouted.

As Pyrrha complied with said order, attempting to use Five's elbow as a gun rest, Six shook his head. "You freaking idiot", he chuckled as grabbed one of the Tunnelers at the top of the grating, and squeezed down on its neck, before throwing it into the cave wall. It crashed onto the rail the lift was attached to, and was rather messily bifurcated when the lift made it down.

"How much further until this is over!?" Jaune asked, swatting a Tunneler with his shield onto Myrtenaster, after which Weiss withdrew the blade and stabbed it again in the skull for good measure.

Another explosion just above them sent rock and shrapnel into Pyrrha's back, causing the champion to quite literally be thrown off of Five's back.

"Aw, shit," Five grumbled, rather unfazed, stepping over her and shooting down another Tunneler. "You dead?"

"No," she grunted.

"Good."

"Hey, I see some light down there!" Yang shouted over the sudden crescendo of explosions and screeching creatures.

Five dragged Pyrrha to her feet and braced her on his shoulder as the group huddled together, back to back as the last wave of Tunnelers crashed over the barricade. In a flurry of bullets, blades, and ED-E's energy blasts, every Tunneler in the lift was vaporized, perforated, disemboweled, impaled, and/or eviscerated.

The lift ground to a halt, sending Six tumbling into the gate, which gave way under the titan of a man's weight. He landed flat on his back on the metal floor.

" _Alabado sea Dios, estoy vivo!_ " the Courier shouted.

"I never want to see an elevator for the rest of my days!" Five shouted, before looking over at Pyrrha. "You can walk?"

"It's just a scratch," she replied. "I'm fine."

Five looked at her back, eyebrow raising. "You sure it's just a scratch?"

"Positive."

He put his palm on the small of her back, just above the end of her corset, then waved said blood soaked hand in front of her. "'Just a scratch,'" he parroted, in a mock falsetto.

"Wait a minute... so you guys' Auras aren't working either?" Jaune asked.

"My arm was broken by a giant lizard, Yang was poisoned by some of those creatures, and now Pyrrha's losing blood. I'd say it's rather obvious by now," Weiss replied.

Five palmed the three long gashes on his stomach, which all dripped a bit of blood. "I'm good. Just need to bandage this up. But you, Red, have a ridiculous pain threshold if you think getting so many shrapnel wounds punched in your lower back that it resembles ground patty is 'just a scratch', I'm afraid you will need a doctor. And not a medical one, we're talking psychiatric help."

"The wound isn't deep. I should be fine," Pyrrha replied, raising an eyebrow at Five. "Are you a doctor?"

"Closest thing to one in these parts," he replied.

*DEDEDEEEDEEDEEE*

"What did he say?" Five asked Six.

"He said you were wrong. Data indicates there's an Auto-Doc around here somewhere."

"Praise be to God. If he's still there. Where's the Auto-Doc?"

"ED-E, lead the way."

The robot chirped happily as it floated ahead of the group, stopping next to a terminal. *WOWOWOWOW*

"I'm no good at this kind of thing," Six admitted.

"I ain't either."

"Ugh, you people..." Weiss groaned, storming ahead of them and examining the terminal. "What kind of operating system is this?"

"Robco v10 Process." Five replied.

"Never heard of it."

"Basically, when you turn it on, you have to activate 'Admin Protocol'."

"Done."

"Then you're gonna get some symbols and words. One of those words is the pass-"

"Done."

The door clicked, whirred, and began to open, leaving Five slackjawed. "H-how?"

"One of the options was 'password'. Dolts."

"Fair enough," he replied.

ED-E floated through the doorway, only to come careening back due to a sudden hail of bullets.

"Shutthedoorshutthedoorshutthedoor!" Five shouted, as Weiss practically crushed the corresponding key with a barrage of presses, the door shutting just as a bullet grazed Jaune's ear, eliciting a yelp from the blonde.

"What was it?" Six asked, surprisingly calm as he reached into the bag on his back, pulling out a helmet with a gas mask and glowing red eyes.

*DEDEDEWOOPWOP*

"Sentry Bot, huh? So it's an easy fight, then."

*WOPWOPWOOOOW?*

"Weiss, open the door. Everyone else, stay behind me."

Everyone, save for Five, looked at him like he was insane.

"You're gonna need that Auto-Doc," Five groaned. "Cause I ain't fixin' you."

"Don't worry."

The door opened, and the Sentry Bot down the hall turned to face him, the single white star on its chest shining in the dim light.

" _Hola, como estas?_ "

The Sentry Bot's Gatling gun opened fire, the bullets impacting Six's chest and helmet, loud * _ding*_ s accompanying every impact like hell's windchimes. Six only flinched slightly with each impact, the man simply striding forward towards the bot unfazed and reaching into his coat, pulling out a pulse grenade. As he stretched his arm to throw it, a bullet impacted his wrist, causing the flesh around it to explode into a gory mess, and the bone to snap like a twig.

"Ow," he droned, grabbing the grenade with his good hand and throwing it at the Bot, the device exploding in a round bubble of arcing lightning, frying the machine's systems and leaving it an immobile husk.

Six turned around, taking off his helmet, revealing a series of cuts, bullet holes, and bruises on his face and arms, and quite a few holes in the armor on his torso. Slowly, the wounds started to congeal, and then, they were gone. The broken orbital bone suddenly merged, as if nothing had happened to it, and the flesh began to reform around it.

"Did it work?" he asked Five.

Jaune suddenly threw up on the catwalk, causing Weiss to recoil, and Pyrrha to knowingly pat him on the back. Yang's face, meanwhile, was a 'o' of wonder.

"How did you DO that!?" she asked.

"I got an implant from a doctor back in the Mojave. Some kind of tissue restoration stuff."

"And it works as advertised," Five added. "Couldn't even tell you were shot. Now... that robot's kinda in the way."

"Not a problem," Six replied, walking over to the Sentry Bot, grabbing it by the head, and shoving it aside. "Moved. Weiss, you get dibs on the Auto-Doc, we need every available arm working."

Weiss nodded, looking down at the limb in question.

"Five, take a look at the damn thing and make sure it doesn't perform an impromptu cosmetic surgery like the last one."

Five smirked. "The one that chopped up that skinhead?"

"One and the same. Now go."

Five motioned for Weiss to follow him, and walked down the hall, following ED-E to the medical office. Six leaned up against the husk of the Sentry Bot, rotating his now-completely healed wrist. All who remained with him stared at said part of his body, still in disbelief at how he had healed to almost perfect condition.

"I heard Jaune saying something about an Aura. What's that?" he asked, his wrist popping slightly as he continued to flex it.

"Uh..." Jaune started, only for Pyrrha to take over.

"It's the physical manifestation of one's soul," she said.

Six shrugged. "Huh. Sounds interesting. What did it have to do with your injuries?"

"Normally, our Auras would allow us to ignore damage to a certain point. They can absorb a fair amount of physical punishment. Even if we were hurt, our Aura would heal the wounds at a rapid pace."

"Huh," Six repeated, looking mildly intrigued. After a few minutes of silence, he looked over at the kids again, leaning further against the Sentry Bot. "So who of your friends is still missing?"

"Blake, Ruby, Nora, and Ren," Pyrrha answered.

"Can they fight?"

Yang nodded. "We know how to handle ourselves. We've been fighting Grimm for almost a year now."

"Grimm?"

"Oh... yeah, forgot. Different place," Yang muttered. "It's a long story."

"Probably will have to wait, then. Now, I figure I should tell you what's going on. Pretty soon, we'll be heading back out to confront the man you keep hearing on ED-E- Ulysses-. I know you kids know how to fight, but this is something I need to handle on my own. If I help you find your friends, I need your word that you won't interfere with my dealing with Ulysses, no matter how badly it goes."

"Well, what exactly are you expecting?" Jaune asked.

"Probably gonna get stabbed, shot, bludgeoned, or blown up. Minor setbacks."

"What's your beef with this Ulysses guy, anyway? It sounds like he doesn't like you too much," Yang asked. "You know, the way he calls you 'Courier' like it's some kind of ancient curse word or somethin'."

"Supposedly I'm the reason this shithole is like this, and Ulysses has taken upon himself to be judge, jury, and executioner."

"Stand up guy..." Yang rolled her eyes, sarcasm oozing from her voice.

"Piece of shit machine won't start up!" Five shouted from down the hall, followed by a heavy thud against the metal, and the whirring of machinery. "That's better!" he said, his voiced strained at a slightly higher pitch.

"That's what you get for punting the console, you dolt," Weiss chided him.

"Shut up!"

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "It sounds like we're getting along great here..."

"Dutch is a good kid, deep down. He's just got some problems he needs to iron out. Stuff he's gotta face on his own, you know."

"Like what?"

The silence that followed was rather awkward, and it looked like Six was staring a hole through Jaune's head.

"That is his business."

As if summoned by the mere mention of himself, Five returned to the group. "Thing'll be done in a minute."

"Okay. Kids, what are you good at?" Six asked. "I need an idea of what you can do."

"I punch shit," Yang stated. " _Hard."_

"I can shoot, and my swordplay is adequate," Pyrrha replied.

"'Adequate' my foot. She's the best I know at it," Jaune spoke up.

"Noted," Six replied. "What are you good at?"

"Not much, really..." he replied.

"Don't say that! Jaune's an excellent tactician, and he's not too bad with his sword, either," Pyrrha smiled at Jaune, leaving Five extremely confused.

"Uh... I'm getting a conflicted narrative here," Five stated. "Self-esteem issues much?"

"Work in progress..." Jaune replied sheepishly.

"Aren't we all?" Six asked, looking back down the hall at the Auto-Doc as it opened. "Ah, it's ready. Ey, _perra de nieve_ , what's your shtick?"

"What? My 'shtick?'"

"What kinda stuff are you good at. You have a sword, you good with it?" Five asked.

"If I say so myself. I'm also well-trained in the use of glyphs."

Five raised an eyebrow, folding his arms. "And glyphs are... what, exactly?"

Weiss groaned. "Let's get out of this hellhole and I'll give you a full lesson."

Five rolled his eyes, and turned around. "Hey, Red. Your turn."

"My turn?" Pyrrha repeated.

"My silly stunt got your back turned into a red mush. You might wanna get that fixed."

"You're exaggerating. I'm fine."

"Look, if you're gonna be a stubborn bitch about it, just lemme doctor it up a little bit. At the very least we have to stop it from getting infected." He looked back at Six. "You got those bandages?"

"You gave them to Weiss."

The gunslinger looked to Weiss. "Well?"

"I assumed you had retrieved them. They must still be on the overpass."

Five sighed loudly and removed his vest. "You owe me 150 caps, Red."

"Caps?"

"Okay, we need to sit down when we get back to Novac and explain to each other what the hell goes on around here."

"Would be wise," Six agreed. He looked down at Five. "Hurry up. We need to get out of this complex."

"Alright. Sit down."

Pyrrha complied, straightening her back as he examined her injuries.

"Wow," Five said. "The injuries actually aren't that bad. You just seem to be a bleeder. Hold on... this thing's in the way. You mind taking it off?"

Pyrrha's blush nearly matched the color of her hair. "W-what?"

"We're all adults -or close to it- here, darlin', this thing's strings are in the way. I need to be able to wrap this around your torso."

"I'm not taking it off!" she stammered. "Just wrap it around!"

Five chuckled. "Still gotta undo the strings to do that."

Pyrrha huffed in frustration as she loosened up, shoulders sagging slightly. Five went to work quickly, undoing the strings with surprising haste. Reaching around her, he pulled the vest back and tied it taut just above the small of her back. Just as quickly as the strings were undone, they were back to relatively close to normal.

"Now, if you were a good girl, I'd have given you a lollipop. But, since you were a little bitch..."

Jaune chuckled involuntarily, while Yang made no compunctions about how funny she found Pyrrha's flustered expression.

"Now, let's go break something," Five said, pulling the redhead to her feet. "Does ED-E have this place mapped out?"

"He says we're under some kind of hotel. Says there's a clearing up above," Six replied. "Come on. We gotta go."

With that, the elder Courier walked past the throng and up the walkway to a steel bulkhead, with the kids and Five in tow. Sure enough, upon opening the door, they found themselves at what appeared to be the lower floor of some hotel. Dirt and sand filled the room, and the stale air made Jaune want to cough.

"Radar's got stuff ahead of us. Three contacts." Six stated.

"Then I'll go on ahead of y'all and clear it out. Stick close, if you please." Five drew his broad-blade Machete and Lucky, and walked in front of Six, already ascending the stairs. Almost immediately, a gunshot rang out, followed by a primal screech and the sound of struggle. By the time the company had gotten there, Five was straddling the back of the Tunneler, blade slowly dragging over the throat of the creature, a cascade of luminescent blood spraying the floor.

Weiss' eye twitched subtly, while Six pinched the bridge of his nose. "Really?"

"I'm not licking it this time."

"Thank god. You don't know what's in those things."

Five pushed the thing to the floor, flicking the blood off his blade as he turned back around and resumed his search for the exit. After 30 seconds, three gunshots rang out. There was a loud screech, and then another three gunshots.

"All done," Five called down. "And I found a door, got some light on the other side."

"Excellent. Let's see what's on the other side."

Once the group had all readied themselves, Five kicked open the door, revealing them to be on the roof of a large hotel. Three Marked Men were crammed into cover, clutching their weapons for dear life.

A gunshot rang, and Five's hat was removed from his head and blown apart. The Courier fell onto his back, clutching his head with a shout, as the rest of the group turned to the source.

Ruby Rose covered her mouth, blushing profusely at the rather awkward situation. "Hey, guys!"

 **I'm not dead. Not yet.**

 **Next chapter's gonna come from a slightly different perspective, but it may be delayed by another reboot. I think you lot will appreciate it, as it was a longtime brainchild of TRF and I.**


	6. Chapter 6

The Wrong Place at The Wrong Time

Chapter 6

Claws

Shortly after the events of Chapter 2

 _Outside of Camp Searchlight_

 _NCR Outpost Echo One Five "Rad Road"_

Sgt. Luis Oxley sat on top of an ammo crate as he and Astor's squads enjoyed a slight reprieve, cigarette hanging loose and unlit from his fingers.

Harris strummed at his guitar leisurely, while English sung along, and Forsythe rhythmically beat on an empty Sunset Sarsaparilla case. Luis didn't know the song by heart, although Harris had told him it was called 'Layla'. The soldiers at least found entertaining as they waited for the night's last patrol to come in. After another minute or so, right on time, Cooper, Garcia, and Peppers arrived back at the camp, the latter sitting on the log occupied by Harris and leaning against the soldier, who rolled his eyes with a smirk as he continued the song.

Luis whistled, and Cooper looked up at him. After the Sergeant beckoned him over, Cooper shouldered his hunting rifle and jogged over to him.

"How's it holding up in town?" Cooper asked.

"Four ghouls today. One of 'em was Percy."

"Shit."

"Load of it this is."

"You gonna smoke that?"

Luis held out the cigarette, which Cooper gladly took and perched between his own lips, taking out a rusty flip lighter and lighting it up. "So... what about camp?"

"Restless," Oxley replied, looking around. "Especially the new meat."

"English doing good?"

"Yeah. She's not as bad as the reports say she is. No model soldier, but she's a warm body, and we need as many of those as we can get."

"Speaking of warm bodies, I assumed Forsythe was on horizon watch."

"I don't know whose turn it is, Blake."

Cooper shook his head and looked back at the assembled troops. "Private Forsythe! Corporal Garcia! Get on watch!" he barked.

Forsythe groaned loudly as the song was halted to accommodate for him leaving, while Garcia simply gave a quick, sloppy salute and threw on his helmet. The two troopers walked up onto the ridge, Forsythe taking a knee on the sand while Garcia propped himself up on a stone, 9mm SMG at rest. Forsythe's hand brushed over his .45, but he wasn't expecting trouble.

Cooper had sat down beside the tent, next to Oxley, laying his helmet in his lap as he stared absently at a can of Pork and Beans.

"You hungry, Coop?" Oxley asked.

"Not really," replied Cooper, who tossed the can absently off towards the campfire. "When I was told I was transferring to Searchlight, I wasn't expecting this."

"Long, hard treks through irradiated dirt with ghouls and geckos behind every goddamn rock? I woulda signed my soul away in a heartbeat if the recruiter fed me that."

"You're an objector. You could have stayed behind the lines."

"By the time they get sent to HQ Medical they're dead, dying, or want to be either. I can do more out here."

"How many people have you saved out here, then?"

Oxley looked at Cooper, a wan smile crossing his features. "Not a damn one."

"What gets people? Legion, bugs?"

"Most of 'em get picked off by ghouls while they're on patrol. One kid named Carter got ripped apart by geckos, and... we're not sure what happened to Sughart."

"What'd he look like?"

"He was fucking melting. Skin was liquefying, widespread necrosis, both of his eyes were gone, so was one arm. It was a wonder he made it to camp."

"What happened then?"

"Forsythe shot him. Put him out of his misery."

Cooper let out a shaky exhale as he rubbed out the cigarette. "I heard there are scorpions all around."

"That I can fix. Stings aren't lethal, most of these are small radscorpions anyway. Not enough kick behind 'em to kill you unless you're at the door already. Treated more stings than I can count."

"I fucking hate bugs."

"You're a marksman, Coop." Oxley reminded him. "You could kill them at your leisure."

"I don't want the ghoulies to find us."

"They're too stupid to."

"You'd bet your life on that?"

"No. That's why I carry this rifle."

Cooper chuckled at that. "Hopefully this shitshow will be over soon. I'd soon as just go in there with rad gear and have us sweep and clean the place."

"Astor's iffy, and the good captain's got stakes through our asses to keep us out of the town. 'Nothing gets in, or out.'

* * *

"...nothing gets in, or out. It's simple, right? Well, one day, Astor thinks it's a good idea to get eyes on what the hell's going on there," Forsythe told Garcia, "and we don't see Sughart for another three hours. We hear some gunfire every once and a while, so we assume he's alright. So, come about high noon, there's a storm, we're all inside except for me and Sergeant Ox, and you know who comes rolling back in?"

"Sughart?" Garcia guessed.

"Yep. Your boy Sughart walked in, moaning and crying and stumbling. Good god, it looked like something out of a horror flick. His eyes were gone and there was... some kind of gunk coming out of the sockets. Skin was black, almost liquid, peeling off of him. Good god, the sounds... and then his arm fell off..."

Garcia retched, attempting to hold in his bile as he held a hand up, begging for a pause.

"Sorry, brotha."

"I'm fine," Garcia coughed. "So what'd you do then?"

"Me and Ox were stunned, man, we couldn't move. Finally Ox spoke up, hailed him. All we heard was "Doc! Doc! Doc!" over and over and over... so Ox looked at me, I whipped out this here .45, and shot him in the dome. His head fucking exploded, man. It was disgusting..."

Garcia groaned in disgust. "How'd you know it was Sughart?"

"We could see his shawl. It was covered in some kind of gunk, too. His rifle was empty and his combat knife was broken, and he was out of grenades. Whatever happened to him, he went down fighting."

"But you said you shot him."

"I don't think whatever walked into camp was Sughart anymore, man."

"... rest in peace, Sug," Garcia muttered.

"Amen to that," Forsythe agreed, making the sign of the cross over his chest.

Garcia and Forsythe returned to their vigil, looking down as a radscorpion attempted to consume a ghoul corpse previously dispatched by Cooper's hunting rifle.

"Gross. As. Shit," Forsythe said.

"Think it'll get ill?"

"Don't think bugs can- wait a second, what the fuck?"

"What do you- hey!"

Silva racked the action on his grease gun, while Forsythe quickdrew his pistol and aimed straight at the head of the humanoid approaching them.

"Stop! Identify yourself!" Garcia shouted.

* * *

However Blake had gotten here, she needed to get out.

Those scorpions had managed to take direct hits from Gambol Shroud and keep on coming, while the... 'people' moved with such alarming viciousness that she could hardly defend herself. Not to mention this burning sensation across her entire body. She needed help, and getting out of town was the first order of business on that mission. Now she had to travel down this highway, try to find some way to treat her injuries.

Luckily, these men had appeared.

Unluckily, they were aiming firearms at her.

"Stop!" a tall, dark-haired one shouted. "Identify yourself!"

The man next to him, a redheaded man with some sort of handgun, lifted his firearm into the air and fired a shot. Blake assumed it was a warning shot, and threw her hands up accordingly. The sudden movement disoriented her, and she found herself stumbling to one side.

"Shit, that's a live one!" one of the men shouted.

"Garcia, get Ox, I'm gonna grab her."

"Alright!"

With that, she could hear a set of footsteps approaching her. They stopped, and her weight suddenly shifted, with her being lifted off the ground and onto her feet, looking at the side of the face of her rescuer. It was the redhead, who had his bright green eyes trained on her. His stubble seemed to curl as he formed words, although what he was saying was a bit hard to hear.

"What?" she repeated- 'croaked' was a more appropriate word.

"What the hell are you doing out here in an outfit like that!?" he asked.

"I don't... know where we are..."

"Okay. Hang on, I'm gonna get us moving. Ready? Let's go!" With that, Blake felt herself being dragged forward by the man, and forced herself to catch her step as they trudged along.

"What's your name, miss?" he asked.

"...Blake..."

"I'm Clyde. Nice to meet you, miss Blake. How are you feeling?"

"Like crap."

"That, is stating the obvious. We've got a medic back at camp who's gonna take care of you, alright? Where are you hurt?"

"Arms... right leg... back... feel sick."

"Okay, we can fix that. Just be glad you didn't end up like the last guy."

"... huh?"

"Long story. Come on."

Blake looked ahead at the road to see two more people approaching, both uniformed, one male, and one female. The female immediately rushed back up the road, while the male slung some sort of rifle over his back as he approached them.

"Forsythe, this the one?" the man asked.

"Sure is. Sounds like physical trauma, maybe radiation sickness."

"Alright, I've gotta get to work fast. Here, let me grab her. Get back on watch with Garcia."

"Alright. Here."

Blake suddenly felt herself being lifted off the ground, and looked up to see the face of the new arrival. He was a brawny, dark-skinned man with a thick beard and greasy, jet black hair slicked back with sweat and grime. Unlike Forsythe, he looked like a soldier.

"What's your name, kid?" he asked as he walked back in the direction he came.

"Blake." The word came out stronger than her previous statements, and she felt some of her strength returning to her, although she wasn't anywhere near well.

"Funny, we've got a Blake back at camp. I'm Sergeant Luis Oxley, New California Republic, 10th Mechanized Infantry Battalion, medic. You injured?"

"I got stabbed in the leg by some kind of scorpion, a good few scratches, and I feel ill."

"You've got radiation poisoning for sure. Luckily for you, I packed the good stuff when I transferred. We're almost there."

"Alright."

She looked up, a large tent signaling that they had indeed arrived at the Sergeant's base camp. A group of similarly-dressed men and women surrounded a campfire, in various states of combat readiness, including one unfortunate soul stepping out of the tent in only his boxers. Without the slightest bit of shame, he leaned against a stack of wooden crates, brushing a few dirty blonde locks from in front of his eyes.

"Can you stand?"

"Would rather sit down and get my bearings..." Blake replied.

"Gotcha. Here."

Oxley stood her up and guided her over to the stack of crates, which she sat up against, taking a deep breath as she collected herself, examining the crowd around her. A darked skin man wearing a helmet stepped into the firelight.

"Oxley?"

"Sergeant Astor, this is Blake. She was spotted exiting Searchlight."

The man gave her a once-over. "What the hell were you doing over there?"

"I don't know. I was at the Vytal Festival one moment, there the next."

Astor raised an eyebrow, and looked over at a shaggy-haired young man with a guitar. "Harris?"

"Never heard of it," Harris replied. "Sounds like something you'd hear about in the East."

"You from Legion territory, Blake?" Another man asked.

"Blake, slow down, man," Oxley chided, drawing the gaze of the other man, as well as Blake Belladonna.

"... oh... whoops," Oxley chuckled, looking off to the side awkwardly.

"Cooper. Your last name?" the other Blake asked her, to the point.

"Belladonna."

"Italian?"

"Don't know what that is."

"Huh."

Underwear guy stepped off of the boxes and looked over at Blake. "You don't know where you are?"

"Afraid not," she replied.

"You're in Arizona, right on the border of Nevada. Searchlight. Used to be NCR turf, till the Legion slipped us a uranium mickey a while back," the man informed her. "Name's Jake, by the way. Jake Barron."

Blake nodded, looking back at Astor. "I still don't know any of those places."

"She may have gotten here from Louisiana, sir. They haven't eaten Legion heel yet," a woman replied.

"Peppers has a point. Those guys are isolated as hell," Harris agreed.

Blake realized that it would probably be in her best interests to keep some secrets from her rescuers, until she was absolutely sure of their intentions and objectives. She had already strung them along long enough.

"Yes, I'm from..." she tried her damndest to think of a made up name, fast. "... Vale."

She silently cursed herself for that. There was no possible way they could have-

"It's a settlement just outside of Crescent City, sir. Known for prostitution and chem manufacturing," Barron stated. "Barges from there run to Mexico, they take NCR, gangs, anybody with caps."

Somehow, through some cosmic coincidence, Oum had taken pity on Blake Belladonna.

"That explains the fetish costume, but why the hell would anyone come this far west from there? And this ain't Mexico, so they'd have to go by land for at least a good portion of the journey," Peppers countered.

"We have bigger issues to worry about than the how or why, this girl needs some attention. Where's the medical supplies?" Oxley asked.

The group went silent, and Astor pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Michael..." Oxley said, voice straining slightly as he raised an eyebrow.

"The Lieutenant wanted the supplies for use at the Outpost."

"He WHAT!?"

"Here he goes..." Barron muttered.

"I requisitioned those damn medical supplies myself DIRECTLY FROM CONTRERAS! He SIGNED OFF on the papers and had them brought here, and he has the brass nuts to come take them back!? On WHOSE FUCKING AUTHORITY did the Lieutenant have my supplies repossessed?"

"Lieutenant Shaw said they were needed at the Outpost."

"All due respect, that place is locked up tighter than a Goodsprings virgin. Ain't nothing tougher than a mosquito that gets through the wire there, why the hell would they need supplies?" Harris asked.

"Something about caravan raiders."

"Bullshit. That whole stretch of the Long 15 is completely secure from here to the Hub! Why the hell would they need that much medicine?"

"I have no idea, Ox."

"Cause he's selling the shit to the caravans to make a quick buck!" Oxley shouted, before groaning in frustration. "I need Radaway and some bandages, can we get that, please?"

"I got some Radaway tucked away somewhere," Barron replied.

"Garcia always has a Doctor's kit with him, I'll go get it," Peppers followed.

"Alright. Thanks, you two," Oxley's tone had softened slightly, but his frustration was still evident to Blake. He looked down at her, sighing as he leaned against the crates over her. "This here is a damn shitshow."

"How so?"

"I-"

"Ox," Cooper interrupted, shaking his head.

"... gross incompetence. All I can say."

"I understand completely."

"Even a civ can see it, boss, looks like the Lieut's fucked," Harris quipped, looking up at Astor with a smirk.

"Harris, go check back down the road, see if the patrol's come in," Astor ordered, ignoring the corporal's statement.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it." Harris slowly stood up, laying his guitar against the log he'd been sitting on, and stretching his arms. He then pulled his rifle off his back, rolling his neck as he walked up the road, in the direction of Novac.

About a mile up the road, at the usual point where the patrol came through, there were three dead Legionaries, of varying rank. Such was not unusual, considering how tight patrols for both sides usually were around Searchlight, but the point stood that it was a violent undertaking. What surprised Harris was that one of the corpses was obviously fresh, because the blood was only just starting to pool under his body. The patrol must have just passed through, without checking in.

"Orange!" he shouted, waiting for the protocol response. No sound. Perhaps the patrol was too far down the road. He stepped into the intersection, looking down the route towards Cottonwood. "Orange!"

Nothing.

"Orange, call countersign!"

Still nothing.

"That's fucked," he muttered as he turned, and walked directly into the barrel of a rather menacing looking machine pistol. "Ho, shit!"

"Drop the rifle," the young man on the opposite end of the gun demanded. "Now."

* * *

 _In the Divide, Present Time_

"Holy shit!" Five exclaimed, clutching his hair frantically, as all eyes turned to the cliff side, where Ruby Rose looked up from Crescent Rose to see who she was shooting at.

"Yang! Weiss! Pyrrha! Jaune!" she shouted, throwing a hand up and waving. "Hiiiiiiiiiiii!"

"You okay, sis!?" Yang shouted up at her sister.

"Yeah, I'm okay! There's some guys down there shooting at me. I hit one of them, and I think I..."

"Just shoot the rest of them!" Weiss barked. "There hasn't been a friendly soul since I arrived here."

"Hey!" Five and Six protested in unison.

"One friendly soul," she amended, earning a grumble from Five.

Pyrrha looked down from the roof of the building at the ground below. "Without our Auras, a drop like that would be fatal."

"Just watch this," Five replied, scrambling to his feet and looking at the cliff face. The Marked Men below were beginning to realize that they weren't being fired upon, and were preparing to act accordingly. He then looked back at the roof. "You can go down by those broken rafters and pylons, I'm taking a shortcut."

"See you at the bottom, _hijo_ ," Six acknowledged. "Come on, kids, let's go. Little one! Come along!"

Ruby nodded and leapt onto the roof from her perch, stumbling upon landing next to Five. "Ow! That stung..."

Five dragged her up by her arm, and looked down at her ankle. "You're fine. Walk it off." He pushed her in the direction of Six, who sighed, before stepping out of the way in order to let Ruby catch up.

"Don't mind him. He's just mad that you blew up his hat."

"I didn't know he was a good guy," she explained, looking rather upset about the whole ordeal.

"He's kind of a jerk, honestly," Yang said, not bothering to hide her dislike of the man.

"And that jerk saved your bacon yesterday, _hija_. Be grateful."

Yang groaned. "Ay-yi-yi..."

As the group made their way down the rafters, Pyrrha up front and Six at the rear, Five looked down at the Marked Men, then back up at the cliff face, then back down at the Marked Men. If he timed this right, he'd be able to land perfectly without any injury.

He looked at his coat pocket, and some of the Steady he had managed to hide from Six when they did a once over earlier. Quickly administering a dose, he threw the syringe down and shot off like a sprinter towards the cliff wall. He leapt into the air, impacting it back first. There was a slight curve to the face, and he rode the curve until he was launched off the wall. He realized too late he had misjudged his angle of approach, as he still had another 15 feet to go before he hit the ground. Steeling himself for impact, he crossed his arms and hit the ground full force, quickly throwing himself into a roll as he reached into his waist holsters and drew his handguns. With practiced aim, he raised the pistols at lightning speed and fired once with each. Two Marked Men dropped, while the third ducked behind a stone.

Five looked up at the beams and pylons, finding the rest of the group moving unmolested. He twirled his pistols, holstering them as he reached over his back and drew his kukri, idly flipping the blade by the handle. He smiled as he reared back and let out a shrill, piercing whistle.

The Marked man shot up, aiming its rifle, and catching the kukri between its eyes for their trouble.

"Dumb fuck," he muttered as he strolled over to the corpses, leaning down to rip the blade from its home.

On top of the pylons, Six stumbled as a bullet struck the metal next to him, drawing a strained ' _pinche mierda!'_ from him.

"Gesundheit!" Jaune squeaked as a bullet found its mark right by his foot.

"Dutch!" Six shouted, pointing right at the offender, a Marked Man armed with a shoulder-mounted MG. "Kill that guy!"

Five looked up, nodding his understanding as he walked out further, drawing Lucky and firing a single shot at the Machine gunner as he came around the corner of a destroyed building. The shot missed, but it grabbed the attention of the Marked Man, who turned his gun to Five.

Without warning, Pyrrha stopped, wheeling around to take aim at the ghoul, and firing a single shot. The round slammed straight into the chest of the Marked Man, and Five immediately blew the brains of the ghoul over the Divide dust and sand, before looking up at the group and grimacing directly at the champion.

"Fuck you!" he mouthed, raising the corresponding finger as he reloaded his handgun.

"So how long have you been here?" Ruby asked Yang as they carefully made their way down into an abandoned hotel.

"About as long as you have, Sis. This guy and the dude whose hat you shredded found me and saved me from some kind of monsters. I'm lucky to still be here."

"I'm glad you're okay!"

"Yeah, Pyrrha and Six had to half-drag me out of there."

"Six?"

"That would be me, little one!" Six said as he kicked down a door to a stairwell. "The name's Esteban, but call me Six. That man down there is Dutch, he goes by Five!"

"So where's One through Four?" Ruby asked.

"Four's dead, One's in Texas, Two's somewhere around, and Three took over my route in Oregon. I've been running Mojave for two years, I think."

"Moe-hah-vay?" Ruby repeated.

"One of these days I'll get around to explaining it," Six replied as he walked into the open, finding Five waiting for him, pistol drawn. "What's ahead?"

"A lot of bodies, and what sounds like a grenade launcher."

"A grenade launcher?"

"And a deathclaw."

"... and a deathclaw."

"D-d-d-d-d-d-did I stutter?"

"... let's see what the hell is going on."

The group forged ahead, Five and Six leading, the sound of grenade detonations growing into a deafening chorus as they walked into a clearing. A rather large Deathclaw with blood-soaked, curving horns was currently flailing wildly in an attempt to throw something off its back.

"Is that a..." Six started, awestruck.

"What in the goddamn..." Five muttered.

"Nora," Jaune stated matter-of-factly as the Deathclaw finally threw Nora off of its back, straight into the chest of Six, who barely even flinched at the petite girl slamming into his torso.

Nora popped to her feet, blood streaming from a nasty cut across her forehead as she leaned on a dented and scored Magnhild, looking straight at Pyrrha. "This has been a really nice walk!"

Pyrrha's eye twitched, rather noticeably. "Nora... If we don't die, I'm going to..."

Nora grinned evilly.

"... do absolutely nothing to you because you're my best friend."

"YEE!"

"Hate to interrupt our little get-together, but... we've got bigger problems," Six reminded them, stepping forward and facing the rather large reptile. It roared a deep, bellowing roar that nearly threw him back with its sheer force, but the man stood his ground.

"There's seven of us and one of him. We can take him," Five said.

"This one looks a bit tougher than the last bunch we took out," Yang noted as she punched her gauntlets together, cracking her neck in anticipation of a fight.

"Gee! He's pretty big!" Ruby blurted.

"So what's the plan-"

The Deathclaw roared and slammed a meaty claw straight into Six, who caught it two-handed and braced himself against the dirt. "I need a plan! Now!"

"We beat the shit out of it!" Yang shouted.

"Oh, what a load of-" Weiss started, only to be interrupted by the report of Crescent Rose as it threw its user back into the dirt. "Ruby!"

"Ow..."

"Holy hell!" Five exclaimed, looking between the weapon and the Deathclaw, who angrily clutched at its now broken left horn. "That was a hefty fuckin' round!"

"Less talking," Six shouted as he batted aside an angry swipe from the Deathclaw, "more killing this thing!"

"Right!" Pyrrha and Five replied in unison, causing the later to glare furiously at the former. The two nevertheless put aside their differences and ran to either side of the Deathclaw, pouring bullet after bullet into the creature's flanks, drawing it away from Six and towards them. With surprising agility, it leapt forward to attempt to pin Pyrrha with its left hand, but the champion fired Miló directly through the palm of the Deathclaw and out of the other end, eliciting a furious cry from the abomination. Its attention now drawn to the redhead, it attempted to gore her with its remaining horn, only to find a boot planted directly into its eye as Five leapt into a flying kick that drove the Deathclaw headfirst into the dirt. Whipping out both of his pistols, he was able to get off two good shots, but the Deathclaw furiously swept his legs out from under him, before slapping him to the ground with enough force to knock the air from his lungs, before turning its attention back to Pyrrha, who received a particularly nasty headbutt, sending her flying past the already sprinting Six.

Six performed a quick spin, throwing out a wicked punch with Pushy that send the Deathclaw at least three feet in the air.

"Oy! Jaune, _Sígueme!"_

"What!?"

"Follow me, you fucking imbecile! It means 'follow me!'"

Jaune shook his head, and did as he was told, following Six as he ran back up to the Deathclaw and sent it almost completely upright with a winding uppercut. The Courier grabbed one of the creature's arms and chopped it with all the strength he could muster, causing a loud crack to echo across the canyon. "Take the arm!" he shouted.

Jaune understood his task, and with a loud yell, swung Crocea Mors full force down at the elbow of the Deathclaw, the blade cutting deep into bone, but not cutting all the way through. A bolt of fire dust and a well placed Xiao Long haymaker kept the Deathclaw dazed as Jaune dragged the blade out, planting his shoe against the arm of the massive beast. As he went down for another swing, the blade once again got stuck.

Pyrrha, thinking quickly, raised her rifle and pulled the trigger, aiming to protect her partner.

 _Click_

'Oh no...'

She looked over at Five, who twirled Medicine Stick offhandedly before tossing it to her, then drawing his .45-70 and fanning the hammer, with three of the four shots finding their mark inside the Deathclaw- one managed to smack directly into Jaune's back plate. Although the plate bent in rather noticeably, it refused to break.

"Why won't it die!?" Yang shouted as the creature swung its barely attached arm, Crocea still embedded in the forearm of the creature as it reared up and howled into the midday sky.

Five looked absently at his pouch, and suddenly remembered one particular chem he had packed for this trip. Attempting not to draw attention to himself, he carefully drew the syringe of Psycho from the pocket, and with practiced precision plunged it into his vein. The effect was almost instantaneous- his muscles flexed involuntarily, and he could feel his body temperature already skyrocketing. Blade in one hand, revolver in the other, he went straight for the injured arm of the Deathclaw, burying his own blade into the flesh, before emptying a full cylinder into the joint, causing it to pop, just far enough that he could torque the blade through and sever the limb. The creature leapt back, its roars of rage giving way to roars of anguish as it writhed along the sand, kicking up dirt wherever it writhed. Five jumped onto its back, carving at it like it was a Thanksgiving turkey. Nora immediately stepped forward, planted her foot forcefully on the creature's head, stunning it, and swung her hammer like a golf club.

 _*Snap*_

The beast suddenly stilled, not even a twitch following the devastating blow. Five's slashes slowly came to a stop as he realized the beast was dead. He stormed over to the severed limb, holstering his revolver and all but tearing the two blades from the flesh, spiking one at the ground just between Jaune's legs. "FUCK! THAT!" he shouted, before running up and punting the head of the Deathclaw for good, steroid-induced measure.

Six collapsed, falling flat on his back. " _Ay, dios mio..."_

"FUCK YOUR FUCKING LIZARDS! FUCK YOUR FUCKING RED CUNT AND HER FUCKING MAGIC GUN! FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU!" Five ranted at no one in particular.

"YEAAAAH!" Nora shouted in agreement, running up and headbutting Five.

Everyone that wasn't named Yang Xiao Long was rendered utterly speechless.

"Well, okay then..." Yang spoke up. "How's about we take a liiiiittle break?"

"You are talking my language, _hija_..." Six grumbled as he lay spread-eagled on the ground. "That thing... was fucking evil."

"YEAH, FUCK YOU TOO, DEAD LIZARD BITCH!" Five shouted as he threw one last penalty kick.

* * *

 **FINALLY I FINISH SOMETHING. FINALLY.**

 **I understand it's been a while- mainly because I need money and I haven't been able to find a job. I'm going to start up a later but I know no one will donate, so I guess I'll just put it up as a formality.**

 **Writing this chapter was a chore. Next one should be a bit more pleasant. Until next time, Shock Factor, signing off.**


	7. Chapter 7

The Wrong Place at The Wrong Time

Chapter 7

For Which I Stand

It was no small feat to surprise Tyler Owens Harris. Life in the badlands of New Mexico tended to sharpen your senses. How he had not seen this boy with the pistol before the gun was pointed in his face, he could not understand.

"Drop. The. Rifle." the boy repeated. He couldn't be much older than Private English.

Harris complied, slowly lowering his rifle to the ground. "Okay."

The boy stepped on the rifle and kicked it behind him, Unfortunately, his aim faltered slightly, and Harris drew his knife, lunging forward putting it to the boy's neck. "Drop the pistol."

"I have two. One is pointed at your stomach now."

"I have a knife at your throat."

"Who can act faster?"

"You're not testing me."

"Neither are you."

"On three."

"One."

"Two."

"Three." they said in unison, lowering their weapons. Hazel met pink as the two young men examined each other, still tense and ready to fight at a moment's notice.

"I'd like my rifle back," Harris stated matter-of factly.

The boy hopped back and kicked it into the air, forcing Harris to step back to catch it. He fumbled slightly with it, his fingers nearly clamping down on the trigger as he finally found purchase. "I meant hand it to me, but that works. What's your name, son?"

"You don't need to know that."

"Unless I'm to assume you're my enemy, I need to."

"Lie Ren."

"I'm Tyler Owens Harris, formerly 1st Recon Infantry, now assigned to NCR Task Force Bigtop. Stationed at Camp Searchlight."

"Where is this camp?"

"Just back down the road. Now, question time. Would you happen to know a Blake Belladonna?"

The boy stopped cold. "... where is she?"

"Safe at the camp, a little beat up, but she'll be fine. Figured you two were connected somehow. If there's one thing you learn in the Mojave- weird shit comes in pairs. Come with me."

He motioned for Ren to follow him as he turned back towards camp, and began walking. Ren found this man oddly disconcerting, as if he was hiding something of value and he was determined to take it to his grave. Nevertheless, if he mentioned Blake, that meant the others, and Nora by extension, weren't terribly far away.

"So, Ren. I assume you're lost?" Harris asked.

"A wise assumption," Ren replied.

"Well, I'll give you a little pointer. You're about 50 miles due south of Old Las Vegas, meaning you've got about 35-40 to New Vegas. To the east is Nelson, little trading town, cheap rent and lots of hookers, can't possibly miss it. Up to the north, it's a much longer walk through a mix of Legion and NCR turf. Don't expect the Legion to be nice to ya. Either way, you can head east and take the secure road out of Nelson, or head straight North around the town if you're feeling chancy, to get to Novac- little hotel building with a big-ass dinosaur on the front lawn. It's secure, but lodging is a bit pricey. I can get you a map when we get back to camp."

"Your help is appreciated, Mr. Harris."

"I've been in your shoes, kiddo."

"Oh?"

"Long story for another time." Harris waved his hand as if physically forcing the question away. " Now, how are you and Miss Belladonna acquainted?"

"Friends from school." It was a vague truth, but still a truth.

"The men think she's a prostitute from Louisiana. But obviously, that's incorrect, considering you didn't come by river."

"How do you know that?"

"Only port of call around here is Cottonwood, and it's completely locked down by the Legion. Any boat that tries to get through to there won't get far. Even if you did pay toll, she'd have been carted off as a slave, or at least you'd have to collar her to convince them she was already your slave. But you didn't pass through Cottonwood."

"I suppose you know the area better than I do."

"I do. There's no way you could have come from anywhere nearby. Where did you come from?"

Ren sighed. It seemed this man was intent on getting answers. "Vale, on Remnant."

"I'll pretend to know what the fuck you're talking about. It's almost a plausible statement."

"Wonderful."

The rest of the two's walk to camp was silent. Harris broke away from Ren immediately, walking over to Luis.

"This guy knows the stray. Says they were schoolmates."

"Huh. Hey, kid!" the medic called to Ren, "scoot your boots over here!"

Ren walked over, passing by the campfire, which had returned to its normal occupancy, with Peppers leaving a noticeable space for Harris to sit down on. He did so, his hand brushing over hers in the process, which elicited a light flinch from the woman. Meanwhile, Luis spoke to Ren.

"Name?"

"Lie Ren."

"You and Blake studied together?"

"Correct."

"Alright. You got transport back to Louisiana?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Well, shit. You'd have to cross through Legion turf or catch a boat in Baja. Anyways, that's not here or there. Right now, you and your friend need good lodgings. I can't help you with that, I'm afraid, but I know someone who'll give you two room and board. Guy goes by Six. Stand up fella, helped the NCR squads all around the southwest quadrant in taking care of shit, so we gave him enough caps to find lodgings in Novac, where you can normally find him. If he ain't there, tell the landlady the NCR sent you on their tab. Once Blake's back at full strength, I'll get some of my guys to escort you until you find one of the traveling salesfolk running the roads. They stop on the way to Novac, and have security that can give you way more peace of mind than I can afford. You understand?"

"Yes, I do," Ren replied, his posture relaxing, now that he had a vague idea of what was going on. "What happened to Blake?"

"Serious radiation poisoning, blunt force and piercing trauma, and a bit of radscorpion venom for good measure."

"How long should it take for her to recover?"

"A little less than a day. It'll be sunup soon, so tomorrow morning we'll send you off."

Ren sighed, smoothing out his top. "I was hoping to be on the move sooner."

"What's the rush?"

"A few more of my friends should be around somewhere."

"Well, if you need, I can get a runner to send word to Sloan, the Boulder outpost, and the Long 15 outpost, see if they've found anybody."

"I'll manage. I have means of contacting them directly."

"... yeah... anyway, your friend is in the tent, laying down. You can tell her you're all good, would probably ease her mind a bit."

"Alright. Thank you, Mr. Oxley."

"Not a problem, Ren."

Ren walked away, pushing open the tent door. A dim light hung from a small beam on the ceiling of the tent, casting a pale yellow glow on all but the far reaches of it. On his right was one unoccupied sleeping bag, on the left, Blake, wrapped up in one of her own.

"Blake?"

The Faunus girl snapped upright, eyes wide. "Ren? Oh, thank goodness. Are you hurt?"

"I'm perfectly fine. Although from what it sounds like, I can't say the same for you."

"I'll be fine. That medic knows his trade." She looked at the wall of the tent, then back at Ren, her eyes standing out in the shadow. "Where is everyone else?"

"I have no idea. I'm going to-"

"Try to contact them? Don't bother. Scrolls aren't getting any signal."

"So that means we're a fair distance away from a CCT tower."

"From what it sounds like, there probably isn't another one for a very long ways. Have you heard of Louisiana?" Blake asked.

"Never in my life until today," he replied.

"Well those men are convinced I'm from wherever it is."

"One of them isn't. I encountered a man named Harris while I was looking around for our friends. He told me your condition, and offered to give me a map showing nearby towns and landmarks, for when we leave. The man just outside the tent said we would leave tomorrow."

"Alright. So... what's the plan?"

Ren thought for a moment, looking away from Blake and towards the door of the tent. "I think we should wait until tomorrow."

"Agreed... do you mind staying in here? I could use a familiar face around."

Ren smiled, and sat against the wall of the tent at the foot of her sleeping bag. "I'd be glad to assist."

* * *

 _The Divide_

 _A few hours after last chapter_

Nora finally at up, shaking her head as she wiped the blood and grime from it. "Jeeeeeez, that lizard was tough!"

"You... are preaching to the choir, little lady..." Five agreed, laying against the dead Deathclaw in question.

Pyrrha stood against a rock, watching down the way. "It looks like there is a cave up ahead that we're going to have to enter."

"More fuckin' caves..." Five muttered, looking back at Pyrrha. "Get that skinny little ass over here, got something for you."

"Excuse me?"

"Just come over here so I can give you damn bullets," Five groaned, " I'm too hungover for this crap."

Pyrrha walked over to him as he fished through his various pockets and packs, before fishing out a box of ammo marked ".45-70 Govt.". He stood up, sticking his free hand out. "Hand me that gun."

Pyrrha complied, and the younger courier flourished the rifle, twirling it slightly before working the lever, and feeding ammo from the box into the gun's receiver, and working the lever again. "Simple enough, right?"

"I know how to work a lever action weapon, sir."

Five shoved the weapon towards her, tossing the bullets behind him as he walked away.

"So Pyrrha ran out of ammo?" Ruby asked.

"It would appear so," Weiss said. "Yang is running low on shells, if I recall correctly."

"Yeah... it's fucking depressing."

"I'm sure we can scrounge up some more ammo," Six replied, reaching into his bag and pulling out a brace of shotguns shells. "See?" He tossed them to Yang, who attempted to fit them into the slots on Ember Celica. She threw a testing punch, only for the rounds to immediately pop out of the magazine.

"Wha?"

"The shells are too small?" Six asked.

"Bitch, those are fucking twelve gauges, what the hell kinda rounds you packing on that thing?"

"Accelerated Dust Rounds, Grade 3s."

"Pfffffffffffffffffffft that's the dumbest shit I ever heard. Ey, Red! Gimme that pretty little gun of yours!"

"It has a name," Pyrrha informed him. "Miló."

"And mine's named Bitch, cause I cuss that piece of shit out all day. Gimme your gun."

Pyrrha handed him the weapon, and he examined it, pulling back the bolt. "Definitely chambered for something like a 5.56 mil. Six, you got any?"

A small stripper clip was tossed to him.

"Observe, as I make this gun my bitch." With that, he slapped the clip in, twirled the rifle, and pulled the trigger. The round was fired- directly back out of the receiver and streaking past his face, leaving a nice little scald across his cheek.

"Well... that was..."

Pyrrha strolled over and took her weapon, hitting a small lever that sent the remaining rounds flying out of the gun, before whipping Medicine Stick off of her back. "You can have 'Bitch' back."

ED-E beeped mockingly, drawing a glare from Five. "Remind me why we fixed this thing?"

"Cause it could open the door," Six replied, running a gloved hand through his hair. "If I read the map right, the silo is up ahead. Surprisingly, Ulysses hasn't said a damn word back to me. ED-E hasn't-"

 _"hasn't got any need to go further..."_ Ulysses stated, voice crackling over ED-E's speakers.

"Well, of course you had to jinx it..." Five muttered.

 _"You've brought me what I need. That machine, locked away in the Hopeville Silo. I needed someone to unlock it, bring it home... Now the signal's strong enough, no need for you to carry it anymore."_

"ED-E isn't going anywhere, Ulysses..." Six said, stepping towards the little robot.

 _"You gave it a name... what was it to you? Companion? Slave? Weapon? All nothing compared to its primary function. It is a messenger like us... and it shares our history..."_

"What 'history' do you mean, you _hijo de puta_? Stop being so fucking vague!"

 _"If you feel its loss, remember... you could have turned back at any time. Gone back home. And none of this would have happened. But you had to make one last delivery, Esteban. That's why I knew you'd come... it's who you are. The reason that ungrateful whelp beside you is here to lick your table scraps."_

ED-E suddenly whirred intensely, and began flying away. "Hey! Hey, what the fuck!? ED-E?"

Six ran after the little robot, with the Beacon students and Five watching, the former with confusion, the latter with mild amusement.

"We should follow them," Weiss said. "It would be unwise to let them get too far ahead."

"You're right! Let's go!" Yang agreed. With that, RWY and JN were off. Jaune looked back for a moment at Pyrrha.

"What's the hold up?"

"Just checking something, I'll be right behind you!"

Jaune shrugged and followed the others. Five went to follow suit, but found himself stopped by a firm grip on his shoulder. He turned around to face Pyrrha.

"Do we have a problem?"

"We do. And I want you to listen to me, right now."

"Like hell I'm gonna."

" _Shut. The fuck. Up._ "

Five bucked slightly. "... what were you saying?"

"I do not know you. If it weren't for the fact that you and Mr. Six are my only hope of seeing Jaune and the others ever get home in one piece, I would have left your altogether unpleasant and frankly abrasive company after breaking your legs. Now, considering that we do need you, I'm tempted to just break your legs and let your crawling set the pace, but I suppose that will have to remain a tantalizing fantasy. I will not tolerate you calling me 'bitch', 'hussy', 'whore', or anything of that sort from this point onward."

She leaned in slightly, her voice lowering to a dark, threatening tone. "Did I leave anything out?"

"I don't like being threatened..." Five growled, spitting his long-dead cigarette in her face. "Now let's get the fuck out of here. When we get out of this hellhole, we'll settle this."

With that, he whipped about and walked towards the door to Ulysses' 'Temple'. Pyrrha wiped her face, and pressed on behind him.

* * *

By the time they had found ED-E, and made their way through the Temple, tension was still palpable in the group, specifically between Pyrrha and Five. The entire trek through the temple was more of a game of one-upsmanship between them, with each attempting to outdo the other in every conceivable way. Surprisingly, it was Jaune who called them out on it.

"What the heck are you two doing?"

The two looked at him, one pair of green eyes furrowed with worry, the other burning with anger.

"What do you mean, Jaune?" Pyrrha asked.

"Oh, yes, dear Jauney-boy, why don't you FUCKING enlighten us?" Five asked, looking dead into the blonde's eyes. In another place, at another time, that stare would have cowed Jaune Arc. But, this was not that place nor that time.

"Pyrrha, you're not acting like yourself. It's almost as if you're trying to prove something. And, uh, Five? You're being a prick."

"The fuck'd you say?" the Courier asked, stepping forward.

"I will stab you," Pyrrha warned him.

"I'd give you a machete hysterectomy."

" _El Pajar_ has a point. Five, you're being more of an ass than usual."

"I love how you've decided to suddenly jump onto their side."

"My side is whatever side I chose to be on, _hijo_ , and you're going to respect that fact. You and _C_ _armesí_ can settle your issues after we settle our affairs here, am I fucking crystal clear, boy?"

Five didn't respond.

"I SAID! AM I FUCKING CRYSTAL CLEAR!?"

"Yeah," Five said, gulping slightly, seeming... anxious. "I got it."

Six nodded, exhaling shakily as he rolled his shoulders. "Now... let's go settle this fucking shit. Please."

With that, the group kept on, with Pyrrha moving further ahead in the group, and Five staying in the back, seeming disturbed, as they entered a large, open space, with missiles flanking them on all sides.

"Holy..." Jaune muttered.

"This is... wow..." Yang mumbled. "This stuff could cause some serious destruction..."

 _"That is the plan..."_ a raspy voice all too familiar to Six at this point answered.

A man in the centre of the room, flanked by Eyebots as he examined a single missile, turned to face the assembled.

"Even in this place," he began, "the NCR's shadow falls... or perhaps it is yours, without the Bear's corpse to drag you down?" The man stepped down from the platform slowly, revealing himself in the light pouring through the silo port. His hair was braided in short, wild knots, and his dark-skinned face was nearly totally concealed by a gas mask. He carried some sort of staff, with an eagle on the tip. His long duster bore an old world flag on its back, one that only the three couriers in the room would know.

Five, having composed himself, whistled at the man.

"And your shadow... you couldn't let that machine-"

"Listen, Ulysses, I'm pissed off enough right now, the last thing I fucking need is you pushing my buttons, _capiche_?" Six barked, storming forward, fists clenched.

"Even if you kill me... the Divide's giants are awakening. The missiles here, on their way home... there is no way to stop them."

"I'd bet you tree-fiddy there is, jackass!" Yang blurted.

"Who are you?" Ulysses asked, as he and Six both looked back at her.

"The chick who's gonna beat you black, blue, inside-out and all the way through unless you stop these rockets."

"Why the hell are you doing this?" Five asked. "Ain't nothing to accomplish by nuking the shit out of what's already been nuked the shit out of!"

"You've answered your own question," Ulysses replied, watching as Six resumed his march towards him. "And you'll die with that question on your lips."

It just occurred to Pyrrha how wrong her earlier assessment of Six truly was. The man, 'Ulysses', was a head taller than Jaune, who was already six feet tall. He came up to Six's chest. The man was nearly seven feet tall, and built like a stone pillar. He dwarfed everyone else in the room. How Ulysses did not seem intimidated was beyond her comprehension. "You don't see... listen... even when it's all around you, no matter if I nailed it into your head like a gift from Caesar. You brought the Divide to life, Courier. You brought the Bear, then the Bull- brought me, following your tracks. And when I saw the divide you made... I saw a second chance. A new way of thinking. My world was no longer the East."

Ulysses stepped to where he was nearly touching Six, his grip on his staff tightening as he looked up at his adversary. "Then you brought the West in that package. Destroyed it all. Nearly killed me in flesh... killed me in spirit... You destroyed something much larger than the Bear, greater than the Bull... And when you could have turned away, you brought it again, in that machi-"

"ED-E. Is NOT. A machine." Six growled, suddenly throttling Ulysses.

"I'd let go of me, if I were you..." Ulysses stated, as if he knew something Six didn't.

Six refused.

"You destroyed a nation taking its first breath, a place that I could have called home... now... I'll destroy yours..."

"What good would that do?" Weiss spoke up.

Ulysses turned, and Six let him go as he did the same.

"Excuse me?" Ulysses asked.

"Destroying his home won't bring this place back to life. Nothing will be solved by destroying more."

"She has a point, Ulysses. If you wanted to take it out of my hide, you could have long ago, when I first entered this canyon," Six added.

"Not if you believe in what you follow... 'Kill no Courier.' Caesar's words. I followed them."

"Unless they're a stuck up, two bit jigaboo jackass with a hard-on for 'history'," Five grumbled.

"I can hear you, dog. Your growling is an annoyance, nothing more. Your history is merely that which this man has dragged you through... you know nothing of what has happened here."

"I ain't a damn dog, and I most certainly don't need a filthy fucking Legionary to tell me what kinda life I've had!"

"You will be dead long before I am proven wrong. Dogs live but a short time, but oh, every dog has their day."

"Can we get to the part where I beat you like an Indian war drum, or are we going to keep flapping our gums and hoping that the missiles will wait?" Six asked.

"I am not finished, Courier. Others could have been Legion, like myself, or Cytoras... but you follow nothing. Killing you would be meaningless."

"What happened at the Divide... whatever it was had to have been an accident. What you're about to do is absolute madness!" Six shouted.

"No... no, no, no, no... there is purpose. I believe you when you say you were careless... the Divide... the Chip... the machine you brought here... many messages can be taken from those, intended or not. What I do now... is an act of _conviction_."

"If you blame me for this, then come and settle it with me like a man! Don't drag anyone else into our affairs."

"Blame you? I _learned_ from you. The weapons to kill a nation, and the strength to do it! You showed me a road, a way to carry my message... and now the flag you follow will answer for it."

"So what are you going to do? Bomb the Mojave?"

"No... not the Mojave. The West. All that's been born since America died. The same symbols, carried by a tribe of children. You walked that road... didn't stay. The Bear grows with no structure, no knowledge of their flag and its history. And knowing you believe in the Bear's sickness and give it strength... all the more reason to lay it to waste... After this, one flag will fly over the Mojave. Let it fly, or destroy itself."

"You don't have enough missiles here to take out California," Five said. "Too much land, and you've only prepared three missiles."

"No need to destroy the bear... just cut its throat."

"You're gonna take out the Long 15," Five deduced. "Cut off the supply lines for the NCR and their settlements. The Mojave will only be able to be supplied from Dry Wells... to the East..."

"Correct. They will lose the damn, and retreat... and the Legion will stand."

"I have faith in the NCR, and their cause, in case you hadn't figured it out by now," Six stated, slowly taking off Two-Step Goodbye. "Five. Get me Milly."

"Right on it," Five said, digging into his pack and pulling out a Power Fist, a single sawblade extending from the knuckle guards.

"You claim to have faith in your flag..." Ulysses stated quietly, meeting Six's gaze.

Six stared back at him, fists curling in anticipation.

"Then _die by it_."

* * *

 **A small aside. I have not played Fallout New Vegas in three years. I do not know the entire layout of the Cave of Abaddon, or Ulysses' Temple. I can merely remember that the Boxwood Rooftops lead to the Temple. I apologize for the gap, but I am simply writing what I know. I hated the Lonesome Road DLC and have vowed never to play it again because of the absurd difficulty curve it threw me. That is why I skipped straight to the fight with Ulysses. For the same reason, these two Couriers have already completed the events of the Sierra Madre- cause FUCK that DLC.**


	8. Chapter 8

The Wrong Place at The Wrong Time

Chapter 8

Come One and All

"Then _die_ by it!"

With that, the fight started. Ulysses' swing was fast, but not fast enough, and his staff thudded against Six's firearm.

"Well I suppose I'll have to..." Six said quietly as Ulysses reared back for another swing. Five and Yang were the first to rush to his aid, machetes and fists raised- after all, it was only fair to fight the man evenly (or as evenly as a eight on one fight could be). Ulysses' second swing went over Six's head, as the braided man jumped, wheeling around and planting his boot in Six's chest while his staff batted away the long swipe of Five's broad machete. Yang's fists flew straight for his head, guns clicking as Ember Celica attempted to go about its normal behavior in the situation. Since it could not, the punches did not hit with nearly their normal force, merely staggering the Courier as two Eyebots rushed to his side. Two green beams of light began flowing to him, his grip on the staff tightening as he looked at his assailants.

"And I was expecting a one on one fight..."

"It could be..." Six opined, smirking.

"All of you can try!" With that, Ulysses charged straight at Six, who batted him aside and stepped back as Five went in pursuit of his prey. His blades came down on the empty air left when Ulysses dodged his blows. The youngest Courier grimaced as he went for a wide, looping swing with his off hand, nicking the shoulder of his opponent. With a grunt, Ulysses raised his leg, stomping at the chest of Five and knocking him to the ground. Before he could go for the finish, Yang's fist collided with his face. As the man righted himself, Yang made a 'come get it' gesture with her fingers.

Ulysses went for a body thrust, with Yang pushing the staff to the side as she backhanded him to the floor. He rolled to knees, catching Crescent Rose between his hands as it went straight for his skull. He slammed the blade of the scythe to the ground, hitting Ruby with a not-at-all restrained lariat. This served to enrage Yang, with herself and her fellow blonde running straight for Ulysses from opposite directions.

"I suppose my plea for a fair contest is ignored." With that, Ulysses ran straight for Jaune, his staff meeting shield as Yang continued to close the distance. With his off hand, he drew a bowie knife. Returning to the staff, he swung over his head, causing Jaune to raise his shield, which was rewarded with a deep stab to the waist. The momentary pause caused by the cry of pain from the boy allowed Ulysses to return his grip to his staff and swing it like a bat, catching just ahead of Jaune's temple with the brass figurehead. As one blonde laid sprawled out on the floor, jerking the knife from his body with a rather pronounced grimace, Yang leapt straight for Ulysses, with Nora running in for a spinning hammer swing perpendicular to her. Ulysses answered the former with a quick parry from his staff, and he attempted to kick Manghild away, which caused much more pain to his foot than it did the hammer. Despite his stumbling, he was able to block two more strikes from Yang, and dodge another hammer swing.

With a tackle that would have made Old World football players proud, Pyrrha entered the fight, catching Ulysses just as he swung for Nora's skull, her shield-bearing fist crashing into the grating where Ulysses' head nearly was. With a loud crack, his skull collided with hers, her circlet leaving a nasty gash on Ulysses as the Eyebots went about healing his injuries.

"That was really stupid of me..." Jaune muttered, easing himself to his feet as Six rushed to his side. Five drew his revolvers and took aim at Ulysses.

"You do realize we can kill you quite easily at this point, don't you?" Five asked, twirling his guns to emphasize the point.

Ruby raised Crescent Rose. "Not that we really want to!"

"I REALLY want to," Yang snarled, cracking her knuckles as she blew her hair out of her eyes.

"There are eight of us, and one of you, Ulysses. Don't throw your life away. We can stop the countdown," Six warned him.

"'We' can do nothing. Not I, nor you..." Ulysses said. "I have nothing to lose, and everything to gain... what do you have?" He rolled his head, stretching in anticipation of the next attack.

"Give me my fist."

The group looked at Six.

"I asked for the fist. Give me it. Now."

Five sighed, grabbing the fist that he knew Six was speaking of. Two Step was a gruesome but painful death in itself, and Pushy wasn't lethal unless the target was already weakened. Sodom was a different story all together. The sawblade gleamed in the dim light of the cavernous silo, as he tossed it two handed to Six, who caught it by the brace. Slipping off Two Step Goodbye and tossing it back to Five, he slipped his hand into the glove. Clenching his fist, the sawblade roared to life, flicking grease and lubricant from the blade as it ground away at the air in front of it.

"I suppose it still works," Six said, dropping his packs to the ground and resting his hat atop them. "Last chance to back away."

"You know I will not," Ulysses stated.

"I suppose I expected that. Now, let's fight."

With that, Six stepped forward, raising his fists in a trained boxing stance, Sodom growling as it revved up again. Ulysses flourished his staff as he stared down Six.

"To the death, then?" Six asked. "What happened to not killing other Couriers?"

"Your friends don't seem to care very much."

"To be quite frank. Neither do I." Six followed this statement, by rushing in, gritting his teeth as he threw a sawblade right hook, the weapon colliding in a shower of sparks with the tip of Ulysses' staff, both weapons being knocked to the side. Ulysses drew a pistol from his coat, firing straight at Six's head.

The shot slammed straight into Six's head, the Courier's head snapping back from the impact.

Weiss took a single step back, but Five stopped her. "He ain't even close to hurt."

Six returned his gaze to Ulysses, scowling as the bullet hole mended itself. "Ten millimeter? It takes more than that to get through the plating those Big Mountain fellows lined my _cabeza_ with. Do you have anything bigger?"

Ulysses growled in frustration as he holstered his pistol, pointing his staff at Six. "It won't hold forever. Even steel breaks under pressure."

"Come test that."

With that, Ulysses attacked, a wide looping strike catching Sodom on the knuckle guard. Six responded with a quick jab from Pushy, sending Ulysses flat on his back on the entry catwalk. Six quickly closed the gap, barely missing Ulysses' head as Sodom came down on the grates, the sheer force of his punch sending his fist through the grating. As Ulysses watched, mild amusement in his expression, Six forced his fist from the hole, brushing off the still-running saw and sending an arc of blood by the door. "Whoops."

"Jeez..." Five muttered as he folded his arms.

"Jeez? All you can say is JEEZ? This is crazy!" Jaune shouted.

"This 'Ulysses' wanted a one on one fight, didn't he?" Pyrrha reminded her partner.

"Well we don't have to kill him! He's got to know a way to stop the missiles!"

"He ain't gonna tell us unless we make him," Five said, taking out a cigarette. "I assume none of you smoke?"

Everyone looked at him like he was stupid.

"I'll take that as a yes." He perched the stick between his lips, lighting it up with a silver pocket lighter. "The old man is the 'making him' part of the equation."

"You could always just give this up!" Six said, emphasizing the point his companion just made.

Ulysses answered with a blunt, curt "No," and another swing with the staff. Six caught said staff with Pushy, raking Sodom across Ulysses' gas mask, tearing it like tinfoil over the mouth and nose guard. Ulysses hopped back, swinging his staff once again, a loud snap echoing through the room as Six's nose was broken and knocked askew. The braided warrior attacked again, closing the distance with a spinning swing that caught Six on the jaw, sending the bigger man a few steps back. As he went for the follow up, Six suddenly retaliated with an uppercut with Sodom that nearly decapitated Ulysses. He stumbled back as Six went for another strike, Sodom burying itself in Ulysses' gut, the blades' whirring being replaced with a sickening tearing sound as they tore through the thin layer of armor Ulysses wore and into his flesh. The blood sprayed directly onto Six's face and chest, the man's expression completely neutral as the sawing continued.

"I know the robots can heal this!" Six shouted over the saw as he yanked it out. Ulysses slumped to the floor, clutching the massive tear in his abdomen and groaning. Six stood tall, stepping forward and placing his boot on Ulysses' face.

"You attempt to humiliate me..." Ulysses growled.

"I am humiliating you. Stop before you make this worse on yourself."

The Eyebots resumed their healing of Ulysses, while the Courier in question gripped Six's boot, forcing it slowly away from his face.

Six looked down at him with a look Ulysses could easily mistake for concern, or sympathy. He would not be fooled, however.

"If you intend to continue fighting, then allow me to stand."

Six offered him a hand. When Ulysses batted it aside, Six shrugged.

"Well then."

Six took a few steps back, revving up Sodom again as Ulysses stood up, clutching his stomach.

Everyone watched as he gripped his staff, slowly making his way to Six, who stood rock still. The closer the former got, the less the latter seemed to move, even his breathing seeming to slow to a halt as Ulysses approached.

"Free shot?" Six offered.

Ulysses' response was to swing his weapon with all his might at Six's head. Six leaned towards the impact-

-As the staff broke against his skull.

"WHAT!?" Ulysses stepped back, hands shaking slightly.

"My turn?" Six asked lowly, before suddenly lunging forward, kneeing Ulysses in his wounded stomach, before clapping his hands on either side of his head, putting them in a vice grip.

"I can crush your skull, Ulysses! I could disembowel you!"

He pulled the braided Courier's head up, meeting his hateful gaze with his own. "I could kill you right now!"

"But you won't..." Ulysses grunted.

He was answered with a resounding headbutt, a loud clang of metal replacing the usual crack of bone. Ulysses fell back onto the grating as Six stepped back, letting the robots go about healing him.

"The robots will fix the concussion in a minute. You can keep fighting. Or, you could just give up! I don't really want to kill you! I want to make a better life for the people of the Mojave. Whatever my failings here, in the Divide, may have been, I feel like I can atone for them! I will never bring the Divide back, Ulysses, but I can keep its spirit. I can carry its memories into the new world I'm forging in the Mojave. A world that I can fight for. A world EVERYONE can fight for. Yes, I destroyed the one YOU fought for, but sometimes, people make bad decisions. Terrible decisions that cost hundreds, or thousands..."

He looked at the missiles. "Or millions... or billions... of lives."

He looked back at Ulysses. "This is a fools' errand, Ulysses! I don't want to kill you! If you were a Courier, we could have been friends before someone decided to put a bullet in my skull! I don't remember! I hardly remember the Divide at all! I brought a package, I delivered it, I don't know what the fuck happened afterwards! I don't even remember anyone FROM here, _mi enemigo_! I can't even call you my enemy in good conscience!"

Ulysses glared up at Six, who once again approached him, looking down with what seemed to be pleading eyes. Like the eyes of a father whose only son declared that he wished him dead.

"Ulysses. Stop this."

Ulysses struggled to his feet, gripping his staff and pointing at Six. "I... will not stop... until one of us is dead."

Six smiled. "Good."

Ulysses's hateful scowl turned to more of a confused pout. "What?"

"Well, if you aren't going to stop, I can simply sit here and detonate that nuke that's about to launch, and kill everyone in the room!"

"WHAT!?" the rest of Six's group asked, shocked.

"Pray tell, how?" Ulysses asked.

Six took out the laser detonator he received at the start of the Divide, and pointed it at the missile. "Should I?"

"I would rather you not!" Five shouted, clutching the nearest handhold for dear life.

"Wait a second... Dutch? What are you leaning on?" Six asked as he stared at the Eyebot that Five was grasping like a lifesaver.

*BWOPBWOP!* ED-E greeted him.

"ED-E!" Six shouted, running towards the spherical robot and wrapping it in a hull-busting hug. "You're okay!"

*WEEOWWEEEOWWEEEEEEEEEOW*

"Oh, uh, that was a tight squeeze. Sorry buddy!"

*WEEEWEEEWEWWWWEEEEE!*

"You can stop the missile!"

*WOWOWOWOWOW*

"Well let's get to it!"

"Wait," Ulysses interrupted. "It is not safe... Our enemies gather outside... the shadows of the Bear and the Bull. They will have found their way in just as you did."

"Our enemies?" Six replied, grinning snidely at his fellow Courier.

Ulysses grudgingly nodded.

"ED-E. Fix his stick."

ED-E ran off to comply, and Six turned to face the group. "Dutch, I'm not gonna give you a speech. But kids, listen up."

RWYJNR's full attention was on him now.

"You kids don't know why you're here. Neither do I. And frankly, I'd be surprised to ever find out. But you are here now. I haven't steered us wrong yet, and I don't plan to. Right now, there is about to be a metric ton of meat coming down that gantry. With Ulysses, there are nine of us- we can take these _cholos_ down and send them packing to hell! But I'm gonna need every hand on deck. No one sits out here, understood?"

"With all due respect, old man... we need guns," Dutch stated.

Six grabbed his packs and threw them into the center of the group. "Same with you, Dutch."

Dutch slipped off his pack and began rummaging through it, looking for firearms.

"Uh, we don't really need guns," Jaune said.

"Didja hear that!? Jaune said we DON'T need guns! Oh, poor guy must have hit his head!" Nora said, smacking the blonde in question on the noggin. "WE NEED GUNS."

"Or at least, those of us out of ammo need one," Pyrrha said, looking at Five.

Five rolled his eyes. "It's called 'Medicine Stick', by the way. Bought it from a caravan." With that, he stopped his search, took the aforementioned rifle off his back, and handed it to the redhead next to him, along with a box of ammo. She thanked him with a (99 percent) sincere smile.

"Ulysses?" Six asked.

Ulysses pulled a blocky SMG from his coat. "12.7 millimeter. I will manage."

"Now why didn't you shoot me in the head with that?"

"Would have made things far too easy..."

"Didn't know you had that much faith in me!" With that, Six started going through his rather massive packs, revealing much more weaponry than one would normally thing possible to carry on one's person at any given time. "You wouldn't happen to have any 308 ammo to spare, would you? I don't even have enough for a clip."

"'Cept for that one," Five reminded him.

"Not enough to make a clip."

One of the medic Eyebots zapped a terminal, marking it for Six's sight. A few ammo canisters lay lined up on it. He looked back at Five as he rummaged through them. "Go through my stuff. Any guns they can use, give them to them."

"Got it." Five went to the pile, immediately pulling off Six's Auto Rifle. "Big gun! Hey, Juanito! Catch!"

Jaune looked up just in time to catch the weapon and two empty magazines.

"Shotgun fist! Yang!"

Yang took off one of her gauntlets and replaced it with the skeletal fist pitched to her.

"Hey, prissy bitch! You in the market for a handgun?"

"I suppose I don't have much choice, imbecile..." Weiss muttered.

She received the 10mm pistol, and three of the extended magazines that complemented it.

"I have enough ammo!" Ruby said.

"Same here!" Nora seconded.

Five smiled back at the group. "Fuckin' A. Old man! What do we got?"

"308, .44, and 50 cal!"

"Bring the 308 over here so John Boy has something to shoot!"

"It's, uh, Jaune. J-a-u-"

"I am FUCKING with you, son. F-U-C-K-I-N-G." Five groaned, shaking his head. "You are denser than Brahmin shit, boy..." Nevertheless, he helped Jaune load the magazines, as Pyrrha looked on, concern etched onto her features.

"So," Six said as he handed Five the box, looking back at Ulysses, "I assume the past stays in the past?"

"For now," he replied.

"Fair enough. How long do you reckon we have?"

"A few minutes, at most. They are coming now."

"Then I suppose we should get ready."

Six cocked his handgun in anticipation, the steel glimmering in light of the silo as he reloaded it. "So, if one of us dies-"

"I find that outcome fairly unlikely."

"True. I suppose we should just get on with this?"

"I think so," Ulysses answered, racking the action on his own weapon.

"Everyone ready?"

The rest of the group looked at Six, with Five even giving him a cheeky smirk. "Ready as we'll ever be."

Jaune gulped as he straightened up his weapon, and Pyrrha put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Yang and Ruby hi-fived. Weiss rolled her eyes at Nora, whose heavy breathing was unnerving even Ulysses.

There was a sudden explosion as the door flew off its hinges, and a single Marked Man with a blade entered the antechamber. Its eyes immediately jumped to the assembled group.

There was a short pause.

Everyone opened fire.

The first Marked Man was all but torn to pieces by the massive volume of lead thrown at him, and a good few of the ones who followed him suffered the same fate. Unfortunately, there were more than enough to push through the lead, setting up firing positions. Others charged straight ahead, flaming swords and large metal blades raised.

"Intercept those guys!" Six shouted.

"On it!" Pyrrha and Five shouted in unison, both of them stepping in between Six and Ulysses.

"How many?" Pyrrha asked.

"Ten. I'll take eight," Five replied.

"Alright then."

With that, the two were off. Five fired both of his revolvers into the crowd, casually dispatching four within moments. Pyrrha drew Miló, slashing at the first Marked Man to swing at her, a neat decapitation. Her second stroke cleaved through the chest of another enemy, and her- or rather, Five's- rifle dispatched of another. Rolling the rifle by the lever, she fired at another enemy, with both her and Five hitting the target and sending it off the catwalk.

With a roar, the last enemy swung down on Pyrrha, who responded with a quick stab to the stomach. One of Five's bullets relieved said Marked Man of his head.

"Thank you."

"Same to you," Five replied, spitting his cigarette at her with a sneer.

"You two kids play nice..." Six muttered as he walked between them, Ulysses pouring covering fire behind him.

Jaune found the rifle surprisingly easy to handle. The sight of what it did to what he hit with it, not so much. He felt a bit uneasy with every rather large hole the .308 rounds left in the Marked Men, but he remained silent about his discomfort. Yang rushed into the fray headlong, bolting past Ulysses, Pyrrha, Five, and even Six in her mad dash to the fight. Nora, not to be outdone, followed suit, using Manghild's grenade to propel herself through the air. Due to her lack of Aura, the force disoriented her, and the fall wasn't very pleasant, but Manghild found itself buried in a Marked centurion's skull nonetheless.

Six casually walked over to the ginger, dispatching the nearest Marked Man with an offhand pistol shot, and another with a backfist from Sodom. He hefted Nora to her feet, giving the girl a casual tussle of the hair.

"You alright?"

"I'm just fine!"

"Good. Up and at them."

"Allllrighty!"

With that, the two began making a mockery of any flanking attempts on the right side, greeting them with hammers and fists.

Pyrrha and Five took their eyes from the enemy ahead for just a second.

"I ain't letting the old man outdo me. Come on, Red," Five ordered, firing into the left flank.

Pyrrha sighed. "You're just as bad as Nora..." She followed him anyway, joining in the fight.

Ulysses watched in exasperation as the group further extended themselves. "Children, all of you..." He slowly walked forward, spraying bullets into the crowd as Yang attempted to wade through it.

Yang's fist collided with a Marked ranger's helmet, sending him careening off to one side, a good portion of his skull now painting the wall. Her backfist sent another one sprawling back, only for Ulysses' bullets to riddle it within seconds. The bruiser looked back at him as he dropped the SMG and extended his hand. "Machine!"

*FWOPFWOO*

A Marked Man charged at Ulysses, Blade of the West over his head ready to bifurcate the frumentarius.

"...ED-E..."

ED-E immediately flew over, zapping said Marked Man into the crowd and dropping Ulysses' staff.

"Thanks."

*WEEW*

With that Ulysses was off, his strikes lightning fast as he warded off the attacking Ghouls. Most of them survived the blows, only for one of the RWYJNR crew to finish them off. At one point, one wearing a crude facsimile of Lanuis' helmet attacked him, forcing him to block with his staff.

"That is the Legate's mask?"

The ghoul growled in anger, rearing back for another swing.

"Shoddy craftsmanship." With that, he stabbed through the already broken eye slat of the helmet with the brass figurehead, impaling the enemy through the eye.

The herd of ghouls charging into the room slowly started to thin, the din of gunfire slowly settling.

Six kicked the body of the last surviving Marked Man to the ground, before swiftly dispatching it with a single pistol shot. "And... done..."

Five swiped his blades, flicking the majority of the gore off of them in Pyrrha's general direction. She simply wiped it off.

"So, now that we have a moment's rest..." Six said, looking at ED-E. "How do we stop the launch?"

* * *

 **For those who know that I'm an absolute whore for good music, I actually have music for this fic. Not necessarily for just characters, but for scenarios and certain dynamics. As the story goes on, I'll post more and more of them. At the end, you'll have a veritable playlist of it. Anyway, here are the first few.**

 **Six: " Ghost Riders In The Sky" by The Outlaws**

 **The NCR: "California Dreamin'" by The Mamas and the Papas**

 **Story Theme (It will show up again later) "Evolution" by Dreamstate**

 **The next chapter will be... special...**


	9. Chapter 9

The Wrong Place at The Wrong Time

Chapter 9

Who We Are

 _Camp Searchlight_

Lieutenant Cooper had called some sort of emergency assembly, leading to the men -and women- of the Searchlight patrol unit all seated around the campfire, in full combat gear. Harris, in particular, looked on edge.

"Men, I'm pretty sure you can guess that why I've called you here isn't on the matter of pleasant conversation. I have some good news, yes, and some bad news."

"Good news first, boss?" Baron asked, seated on top of a empty Sarsaparilla crate.

"The ghouls are gone from Searchlight. Same with the scorpions. Hell, even those scavvers are gone."

"And the bad?" Peppers asked, blowing a wild lock of ginger out of her eyes.

"Well... they got replaced, as the scavvers learned the hard way. Whatever it was tore them to pieces."

"If it isn't one thing, it's another!" Forsythe griped, throwing up a middle finger in the direction of the town.

"We didn't get visual on whatever it was that did it, but one thing we do know is that it has to be contained or eliminated. Baron, get on the horn and get me the Captain. I want authorization for a sweep of the town."

"Didn't you say the scavvers got torn to pieces? You WANT us to go in there?" Garcia inquired, SMG on his lap. "Those guys were wearing plate metal armor when they went in. If it can tear through that, we don't stand a chance."

"They didn't have NCR firepower-" Oxley began.

"-or whatever the fuck the kid was carrying," Harris interrupted, brandishing one of the green handguns carried by Ren. When the boy went to sleep, he managed to sneak it off of him, although why it was hidden up the very loose sleeves of his tunic he would never know. "This thing carves through scorpions from rifle range in a single shot. It was like firing an AM rifle. Recoil hit like a bitch too."

"And both of them have weapons?"

"'Ren' had the guns, Blake had some sort of sword. But she woke up when I kept rummaging. Had to bounce."

"So are we clearing out the camp or what?" Cpl. Flagg asked.

"Yeah. I'm tired of talking about this. If we wanna go try and kill whatever's in there, we might as well go now. Fuck waiting for the Cap to get Ollie's dick out of his ass," Pvt. Braxton agreed.

"Much as I hate it, we need to follow protocol, Private. Baron, got anything?" Oxley asked.

"Nothin'. Captain must be busy with some bimbo from the strip."

"Ain't he married?" Forsythe asked.

"Aren't you?" Peppers countered, smirking.

"Not as far as he's concerned," Harris stated, neutral.

"Now that's just downright mean. She wrote me a Dear John anyway."

"She's done that at least three times now."

"Troops, focus," Blake ordered, drawing everyone's attention back to him. "I want everyone to dose up on Radaway and get ready to move. If we can't raise the Captain, we're gonna move on our own. Astor will hold down the fort when he gets back with his daily patrol. And for the love of god, keep your heads on straight."

"Sir!" they responded.

"Loving the fake enthusiasm. Get loaded up and ready to move out!"

* * *

Harris was not as slick as he seemed to think he was. At least, he wasn't slick enough to get away with walking in, stealing Stormflower, and walking out. Blake wasn't stupid enough to leave him be after that. But from the sound of it, the troops that had taken them in would be going back into the town. Something had killed those scorpions that she and Ren hadn't encountered. 'Ghouls' and the scorpions appeared to be powerless to stop these new intruders, and she intended to find out just what they were. And so, she shadowed the unit, starting with her hiding in the tent, ear to the canvas and eyes through the slat.

"Any word, Baron?" Cooper asked again.

"Nada," Baron replied.

"Fuck. Looks like we're going in dark. Let's get moving!"

The air suddenly smelled vaguely of smoke, coming from outside the tent. The fire was out... what could be causing that smell?

When the unit began to head down the highway, towards the abandoned town, Blake followed, unable to shake the lingering scent of smoke coming from the troopers.

"Something smells kinda funny. Like, something burning," Forsythe stated, twirling his pistol.

"I smell it, too. Ox?" Cooper asked.

"Yep. Smoke. Any idea where it's coming from?"

"Smells like someone in the squad."

"I had a stick this morning, sir," Baron said.

"Damn, smells like you had a whole carton, Corporal."

"The Lieutenant smokes more than I do, sir."

"Fair point."

Peppers cocked her rifle, causing Garcia to jolt slightly, bumping into Forsythe.

"So, we didn't see anything other than the dead scavs?" Harris asked.

"One of them stumbled out missing both arms and his lower jaw. He fell over just past the porch of the general store. Something dragged him out of sight immediately," Cooper explained.

"Sounds like some horror movie bullshit. Sure you weren't dreaming?"

"You see any movement in that town, Harris?"

"No sir."

"Are you sure you're not imagining the lack of movement, Corporal?"

"No, sir."

"There you go."

Blake continued to tail the group loosely as they approached the entrance to the town, with Harris and another man in front.

"Any movement?" Oxley called up.

"Jack Shit," the second soldier replied. "Got a half eaten scorp here."

Oxley moved forward towards said scorpion, and Blake took a look for herself. The scorpion looked to be bitten clean in half, with some jagged edges indicating tearing and ripping.

"Jesus..." Oxley muttered.

"Movement by the general store!" Peppers shouted, firing a shot at said yellow building, her shot hitting one of the panel doors and sending it swinging open. Heads and guns swiveled to face the building.

"What did you see?" Cooper demanded.

"Big. Black. Four Legs. Couldn't make out details."

"You say it ran into the general?"

"Yeah!"

"Flagg. Braxton. Baron. Harris. Check it while we complete our sweep."

"Got it," Baron replied, motioning for the others to join him. Harris led them as they entered the building, and the rest of the team continued up the road. Blake decided to follow the former, entering the door a good two minutes after the last soldier, 'Flagg', did so. The interior was picked clean, save for a few boxes of 'Instamash', 'Blamco Mac n Cheese', and 'Sugar Bombs'. 'Flagg' stared at them with mild interest.

"Flagg. Those things are irradiated to shit."

"Well I have Radaway."

"Waste it all on one lunch, why don't ya, you dumb fuck."

"Shut up, Braxton."

"I'm heading upstairs," Baron informed them.

"Got it," Harris said. "Flagg, go with him. Braxton, check the back. I'll keep watch up front."

The men complied, each going about their task. Blake hid behind an item display, watching Harris closely as he took Stormflower out of his hip holster and examined it.

"Awfully light..." he muttered.

Two loud gunshots, followed by a roar and the crashing of something heavy on wood, and a scream, interrupted him. He dropped the weapon to the floor, drawing his own rifle as he turned to look at the staircase, the sound of footsteps and automatic gunfire growing louder as something rushed down. Baron tumbled into view, gun barrel smoking as he tumbled over a small railing. "There's a fucking giant dog!"

"A dog!?" Harris repeated.

"That's sure what it fucking looked like! Tore Flagg like tissue paper!"

"Shit! Braxton!"

"Already here!" the other soldier replied, shotgun in hand and aiming at the staircase, as any sounds of struggle went silent... followed by a rhythmic thumping against the ceiling. It sounded like it was moving to the stairs.

"Oh, shit..." Baron mumbled as he fumbled through a reload, while Braxton pumped his shotgun in anticipation. Harris lowered his rifle, seeming a bit perplexed. "Sounds pretty big."

"You're damn right it was big! Stood a good foot and a half over me!" Garcia shouted.

"Quiet!" Braxton said. "It's not moving!"

Sure enough, the thumping had stopped. In its place was silence.

"... what the fuck is in this place?" Baron asked.

"Not waiting to find out..." Braxton stated, slowly walking towards the door... and smacking against the display. "Fuck! Broken glass!"

The thumping grew frantic, a roar booming through the building as _something_ bounded down the stair case, springing off the wall towards Harris, who dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes to avoid its lunge. Blake recognized the red eyes and bony plates immediately.

 _'This place has Beowulves..."_

The Grimm roared at Baron, who promptly responded by unloading his magazine into the creature's face, which did little more than agitate it. A shotgun blast from Braxton did a bit more to faze it, however, and the Grimm whipped around, planting a foot on the rising Harris' back and slamming him to the floor, before taking a backhanded swipe at Braxton that sent him tumbling over the display towards Blake. She rolled to the right, barely avoiding the man as he crashed to the floor, the creature immediately following him with jaws outstretched.

It clamped down on his head. She could hear the tang of the teeth piercing metal, the crunch of the bone... and she felt a warm jet of the man's blood smack her cheek. It took a fair bit of willpower not to vomit, but she managed to keep it together long enough to unsheathe Gambol Shroud.

"Fucking Christ!" Baron shouted as he fired again, bullets smacking into the black Grimmflesh as the creature violently jerked away from Braxton, taking the head with him, which drew a frightened, barely intelligible cry from Baron. The Grimm leapt at him, pinning him to the wall before a rifle round slammed into the side of its head. The scent of smoke Blake had smelled earlier was much stronger now, and a few wisps were now visible rising from the floor.

"Fuck off of him!" Harris shouted, kicking the thing off and smacking it with the butt of his gun, the smoke starting to grow even more, coming from all over the room. The smell was overpowering now. Blake coughed, but only got a side glance from any of the participants in the fight. Baron stepped towards the Beowulf and fired the last of his magazine, to which the Beowulf responded by smacking him into the window. The sheer bulk of the man sent him crashing through with a cry of pain, leaving Blake and Harris alone with the monster. The smoke now grew even faster, seeming to come from... Harris?

The man rushed towards the Grimm, hooks extending from between his knuckles as he closed the gap between himself and the beast, swirls of orange and black permeating the smoke cloud that followed him. Within moments, she could hear the sound of the Grimm expiring, and the smoke began to clear, all without a single wisp so much as exiting the window. Harris immediately turned his gaze towards Blake, who could do nothing more than stare back.

 _'My aura isn't working. How is his?'_

Without any pause, he left the building. The sound of gunfire echoed in the streets.

* * *

 **I know it's short, but I ask that you bear with me. I'm trying to find a home, on top of work and commitments to my girlfriend, who is very supportive of my writing, but nevertheless demands a good amount of my attention. So, this just shows a little bit more of the NCR boys, and reveals that not all is quite right in the Falloutverse either**

 **UPDATE: I wrote this on 7-21. Haley passed away that night. And I have a bit of a confession to make with you all.**

 **I haven't been updating this because I fell. hard. I was homeless since late May, and only recently found a home. I had no money, and as I said, I found out through a friend who brought me first sandwich I'd had in a month tell me that Haley had committed suicide, due to a combination of a rumor stating that I had died from alcohol poisoning, her own depression, and life circumstances.**

 **I hope that this time will be different. I have completely sworn off alcohol, detoxed, and am attending a two week rehabilitation program. I am going back to try and pursue my wrestling career with help from my newest roommate, a man I used to see on the streets who ended up marrying a social worker. I have a home now. And I know my life is far from being in order, and that writing is the last thing I should be wasting energy on, but I am still here. I still create. I still have a wonderful imaginarium in my head... and I don't think I want to stop just yet, and I hope you don't want me to either.**


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